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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


1980 


Technical  Notes  /  Notes  techniques 


The  institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Physical 
features  of  this  copy  which  may  alter  any  of  the 
images  in  the  reproduction  are  checked  below. 


D 
D 

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Coloured  covers/ 
Couvertures  de  couleur 


Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g^ographiques  en  couleur 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color6es,  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 


Tight  binding  (may  cause  shadows  or 
distortion  along  interior  margin)/ 
Reliure  serrd  (peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou 
de  la  distortion  le  long  de  la  marge 
Intdrieure) 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  ie  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Certains 
ddfauts  susceptibles  de  nuire  d  la  quality  de  la 
reproduction  sont  not6s  ci-dessous. 


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Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


Coloured  plates/ 
Planches  en  couleur 


Show  through/ 
Transparence 


Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 


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Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata  slips,  tissuss,  etc.,  have  been 
refilmed  to  ensure  the  best  possible  image. 


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Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reii6  avec  d'autres  documents 


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Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


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Des  planches  manquent 


Additional  comments/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentaires 


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The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche  shall 
contain  the  symbol  —^-(meaning  COI^TINUED"), 
or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"),  whichever 
applies. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6td  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet6  de  I'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la  der- 
nidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le  cas: 
le  symbole  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le  symbole 
V  signifie  "FIN". 


The  original  copy  was  borrowed  from,  and 
filmed  with,  the  kind  consent  of  the  following 
institution: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de  i'dtablissement  prdteur 
suivant  : 

Bibliothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


Maps  or  plates  too  large  to  be  entirely  included 
in  one  exposure  are  filmed  beginning  in  the 
upper  Inft  hand  corner,  left  to  right  and  top  to 
bottom,  So  many  frames  as  required.  The 
following  diagrams  illustrate  the  method: 


Les  cartes  ou  les  planches  trop  grandes  pour  dtre 
reproduites  en  un  seul  clichd  sont  filmdes  d 
partir  de  Tangle  supdrieure  gauche,  de  gauche  d 
droite  et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  La  diagramme  suivant 
ilEuStre  la  mdthode  : 


1 

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6 

WOKKS  BY  SAMUEL  ADAMS  DRAKE. 


J  THE   PINE-TREE  COAST. 

Half  Roxburgh 


Illustrated.     Cloth . 


$3.00 
3-50 


3-50 
•75 


OLD  LANDMARKS  AND  HISTORIC   PERSONAGES 
OF   BOSTON.     I'Uistratcd 

OLD    LANDMARKS    AND    HISTORIC    FIELDS    OF 
MIDDLESEX.     Illustrated 

>^  NOOKS  AND  CORNERS  OF  THE   NEW  ENGL/ ND 
COAST.     Illustrated 

■^  CAPTAIN  NELSON.    A  Romance  of  Colonial  Days 

THE  HEART  OF  THE  WHITE  MOUNTAINS.     Illus- 
trated.    Illuminated  Cloth 7-50 

Tourist's  Edition 3oo 

AROUND    THE    HUB.      A  Boy's  Book  about  Boston. 

Illustr.ated ^-So 

NEW  ENGLAND  LEGENDS  AND  FOLK  LORE. 

Illustrated •     ^-oo 

^  THE   MAKING    OF   NEW    ENGLAND.     Illustrated  1.50 

*THE   MAKING  OF  THE  GREAT  WEST  .     175 

OLD   BOSTON   TAVERNS.     Paper 50 

i  BURGOYNE'S  INVASION   OF  1777.     Net        ...       .50 
1  THE  TAKING  OF  LOUISBURG,    1745 5° 


Any  hook  on  the  abo7'C  !ist  sent  by  mail,  postpaid,  on  receipt 
of  price,  by 

ESTES  &    LAURIAT,   BOSTON. 


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THE 


PINE-TREE  COAST 


SAMUEL  ADAMS    DRAKE 

Author  uf  "Nouks  and  Corners  ok  thk  Nkw  England  Coast" 


"  Now   longe  may'st  thou   saile  by  the  Coast, 
Thou  gentle   Master,  gentle   Marinere."  —  Chaucer. 


Jllustratcl) 


•^^ 


% 


BOSTON 

ESTES   &   LAURIAT 

1891 


\ 


4 


Copyright,  1890, 
By  ESTES  &   LAURIAT. 

All  K10HT8  Reserved. 


Typography  by  I  Presswork  by 

J.  S.  C'jshing  &  Co.      I      Berwick  St  Smith. 
E3tes  Prets,   Boston. 


PUBLISHERS'    NOTE. 


Thk  excellent  half-tone  photo-etched  illustrations  in  this  volume  are 
from  originals  furnished  by  .Mr.  H.  G.  Peabody  of  Boston,  Mr.  Harry  Brown 
and  Messrs.  Jackson  and  Kinney  of  Portland,  Maine.  We  also  take  this 
method  of  acknowledging  favors  received  from  the  Boston  and  Maine  Rail- 
road Company,  tending  to  make  tlie  Pine-Tree  Coast  more  attractive  in  this 
respect. 


I'm 


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JHO/A^STOnT 


oH^iCHA^oa])  ISL'^nD  ^VfrMNeo^Np:fwln® 


CONTENTS. 


THE  WEST  COAST. 

CHAPTER 

I.     KiTTERY    AND    THE    PiSCATAQUA 

II.   The  Isles  of  Shoals       .... 

III.  A  Ramhle  in  Old  Youk 

IV.  Ogunquit,  Bald  Head,  and  That  Shore 
V.   A  Turn  around  Wells  Bay. 

VI.   At  Kennehunkpobt  .... 

VII.    The  Story  of  Cape  Porpoise 

VIII.   BiDDEFORD  Pool 

IX.   On  Old  Orchard  Beach 
X.    From  Scaruorough  to  Portland  Head 

THE  MID  COAST. 

XI.   A  Day  in  Portland 
XII.    Casco  Bay         .... 
XI' II.    The  Gate  of  the  Kennehec  . 
XIV.    Boothhay  and   ahout  there 
XV.    Monhegan  on   the   Sea  . 
XVI.    Pemaquid  the  Fortress 
XVII.    Thomaston  round  Owl's  Head 


PAGE 

17 

2!) 

44 

02 

70 

80 

102 

111 

122 

l;52 


153 
175 
185 
195 
207 
220 
236 


THE   EAST  COAST. 
XVIII.   A  Voyage   to   Xorumbega     . 

'  •  •  •  , 

XIX.  Penobscot   Bay   and  its  Mountain  Coasts 

XX.  Historic  Castine 

XXI.  Mount  Desert  Island 

XXII.  In  and  Out  of  Bar  Harhok 

XXIII.  Around  Frenchman's  Bay 

XXIV.  From  Petit  Manan  to  Machia.s,  Cutler,  and  Quoddy  Head 
XXV.  Eastport  and  Quoddy  Bay 

XXVI.    A  Run  across  Grand  Manan 


253 
259 
271 
289 
304 
321 
329 
346 
366 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTKATIONS, 


"The  Breaking  Waves  Dashed  High" 

Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Outline  .Map,  Maine  Coast. 

Head-piece 17 

Old  House  outside  Portsmouth 1!) 

Pepperell  (Portrait) 20 

Fort  McClary,  Kittery  Point 21 

Wentworth  Mansion,  and  Mouth  of  the 

Piscataipia 22 

Whale's  Hack 28 

Martello  Tower,  Newcastle  Side 23 

Whitetield  at  Twenty-nine  (Portrait) ...  24 

Graves  of  the  Settlers 25 

Champernowne's  (Jrave 20 

Maine  Arms 28 

AVhite  Island 20 

Smutty-Nose  Island :50 

Londoner's  Islan<l ;]2 

Sassafras ;];! 

Appledore,  from  Star  Island '.i:\ 

Early  Fishin;j;-ship ;)4 

Fisherman iJo 

Landiuii  Fish.  Olden  Time i]'^ 

Drying-Hake   ;l(» 

Washing  Fish 3(i 

Carrying  Fish 3U 

Dike.  Star  Island 37 

Lauding  at  Appledore 30 

Time  at  a  Standstill 41 

Stone  Church,  Star  Island 41 

Camp-stool,  or  Table 4.'! 

Arouiul  Agamenticus 44 

Across  the  Fields 4.') 

Kemarkable  Howlder 45 

Ye  Perfyilious  Spainyard 40 

Old  Meeting-house,  York 47 

Old  Corner-stone  .  48 

A  Corner  of  Old  Burying-ground 40 

Ducking-stool 40 

Summit  of  Agamenticus 50 

A  Lord  Mayor's  Procession 61 


PAOK 

Canadian  .  rjuipped  for  a  March 54 

Junkins'  Garrison,  Scotland 55 

About  York  Harbor 50 

Boon  Island  Light 57 

LitV-i)reserver (il 

Hard  Fare 02 

Fronds  ()."> 

Early     Morning  —  The     Nubble,     York 

Beach (i4 

Sunnuer  Night  on  the  Coast 05 

January  and  May 07 

Union  Bluff.  York 07 

Bald  Head  Cliff 00 

An  Aged  Seamark 71 

Deep-sea  Codtish 7.'> 

An  ( )riginal  Woodcut 74 

<  )ld-time  Utensils 75 

(h-eat  Hill  Headland,  Wells  Bay 7(i 

The  .Settler's  Chimney-corner 77 

Ancient  Lamp 78 

The  Lonely  Grave 70 

SiH'ctacles 70 

A  Flanker 70 

Leaden  Casement 80 

The  Mail-carrier 81 

Natural  Fungus 82 

A  Summer  Sunset 80 

The  Shipyard  as  it  was 87 

The  \Yreck  Ashore 88 

Tlie  Tristram  Perkins  House 80 

Mitchell's  (iarrison 80 

(\)ngregational  Meeting-house 00 

The  Temperance  Movement 01 

The  Wading-place 02 

Gooch's  Creek O:! 

North  Pier  and  Beach 03 

Uetired  Lobsterman 04 

The  Old  Lock 00 

Old  Half-moon  Battery 08 

Crab  00 

The  Bouncing  Hock 100 

11 


i  i 


1-2 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTHATIONS. 


PAGE 

( )1(1  Cedars,  Cape  Porpoise 102 

I'oisou  Ivy 10:5 

IMace  of  the  Wreck,  with  Cape  Poqjoise 

Liglit 104 

Mail-carrier  (Winter) HMi 

War-club  and  Axe 107 

Arrows 107 

Cheese-press 107 

( )!(!  Milhlani,  Pool  Uoad 108 

Ashore  at  Timber  Island Ill 

Gate,  Pool  Koad 112 

Wood  Island  Light 1  l.J 

Moiuinient,  Stage  Island 114 

Hiddeford  Pool llo 

Weather-vane 1  l(i 

Angel  Gabriel 117 

Koad  to  Biddeford 1 18 

Weather-vane 121 

Dragon-fly 122 

Tlie  Scavenger 128 

Sand-roller 12;5 

"  (Jood  Morning" 125 

Medusie  1 20 

Sea-encumber 127 

Searurchhi 128 

The  Contortionist 129 

Spearing  Flounders 1:50 

King  Philip's  Wampum  Uelt I."i2 

Pine-tree  Device i;}2 

Clam-digger Mil] 

Halberd  i:54 

Fishing-sliallop,  KWO l;!o 

Ancient  Flagon i;5() 

Moccasin lo7 

Turnstile l.'}7 

l{iclunt)n(rs  Island i;>8 

Sclu)olhouse  Porch UJi) 

Indian  Snowshoe 140 

A  Groat 141 

Seamark  ...    142 

Portland  Light 14:3 

Gaining 144 

Whitehead,  Portland's  Sentinel  Cliff 145 

The  Crock 148 

Block  House 140 

Longfellow  Statue 154 

Distant  View  of  Portland 155 

Tile  ( (aks 160 

The  ( )ne-hoss  Shay 1(!1 

Public  Library,  Portland 102 

Longfellow  and  his  Home 1(53 


PAGB 

Wadsworth  Monument 104 

Tyng  Monument 104 

( )ld  Court-house,  Portland 105 

Views  in  and  around  Portland li'il 

Longfellow's  Birthplace 170 

Afternoon  in  August 17J? 

Surf  Effects,  Casco  Bay 177 

Mrs.  II.  B.  Stowe  (Portrait) 170 

The  Flying  Dutchman 170 

Seamark 180 

Half-way  Rock,  Casco  Bay 181 

Fort  Popham,  Kennebec  Kiver 180 

Seguin  Island 187 

Foot-soldier  of  tlie  Time 18!) 

Indian  Hunter  on  Sn'iwshoes 100 

Sword,  Target,  and  Bill 101 

Powder-flask  of  the  Time 102 

Getting  Seaweed,  Sheepscot  Bay 105 

The  Pil(jt 10(5 

A  F'resh  Breeze,  Sheepscot  Bay 107 

One  of  the  Five 198 

Burnt  Island,  Boothbay 199 

Boothbay  Harbor 201 

The  Porgy 202 

Stea-  ..ng  Hot 202 

Seiners  on  the  Alert 203 

Cape  Newagen,  from  Sijuirrel  Island 204 

Turnstile 205 

Discovery  Cross 207 

Monliegan  Island  (ilap)    208 

Five  Miles  Away 209 

A  Mimhegan  Lad 210 

Cliffs  at  Monhegan 214 

Blue-lishing 215 

Rock  Inscription,  Monanis 217 

Old-time  Fislierman 218 

Pemaipiid  Light 220 

The  Oyster-shell  Banks 221 

Setting  up  a  Wig^vam 221 

On  the  Damariscotta  Kiver 222 

Pematiuid  Point 223 

A  Sunnner  Idyl 225 

Arrow-heads 220 

Mounting  the  Hill 227 

Fort  Frederick  and  Environs  (Map)  ....  228 

A  Snug  Harbor,  Pemaqiiid 230 

The  Graves 233 

Tail-piece 235 

Out  on  a  Lark 230 

Montpelier,  General  Knox's  Mansion...  238 
Port  Clyde 239 


I 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


13 


PAGE 

General  Knox's  Monument 241 

Owr.s  Head,  I'enobscot  Bay 24;] 

Matinicus  Light,  Penobscot  Bay 247 

Tail-piece 2^0 

Morions,  Discovery  Period 2")3 

Dawn  of  Discovery 2;'):) 

Sanmel  Chaniplain  (Portrait) 2.">4 

Saint  Malo 205 

Andr6  ThCvet  (Portrait) 2.')() 

The  Rockland  Stape 2^.!) 

Pumpkin  Island.  IVnobscot  Bay 2(11 

The  Camden  Mountains 2(i:5 

Rockport  Basin,  looking  towards  Owl's 

Head 2()4 

Head  of  the  Harbor 205 

In  Bean's  Sliipyards 2(!5 

Climbing  the  Moimtain 2(50 

Fort  Knox,  Bucksport 207 

Evening  in  the  Harbor 20!) 

Ancient  Cannim  (Head-piece) 271 

Doorway,  Castine 271 

Site  of  Fort  Pentagoet 272 

Harbtn*  Shore.  Castine 27;J 

Inscription  Plate 275 

Pine-tree  Shilling 275 

Unitarian  Church,  Castine 277 

Elislia  Perkins  House,  Castine 277 

The  Old  "  Tub  " 27!) 

Picked  up  at  Castine 27!) 

Main  Street,  Castine 280 

Ferry,  Bagaduce  River 281 

Ferryman 282 

Kinch's  Mountain 282 

Sir  John  Moore  28;3 

Relic  of  the  Occupation 284 

Goose  Falls,  Cape  Rosier 285 

Bass  Harbor,  Mount  Desert  Island 28!) 

Anemone  Cave,  Mount  Desert •2!)0 

Gentleman 2!);! 

Gentlewoman,  1005 •2U:i 

Lawyer 204 

Sargent's  Mountain,  from  the  Sound...  2!)5 

Bell  Buoy 2!)0 

Somes'  Sound 207 

Wharf  and  Sawmill,  Somesville 2!)8 

Rocks,  Mount  Desert 2!)0 

Otter  Cliff,  Mount  Desert :i00 


PAOK 

Schooner  Head oOl 

Turtle  Lake,  Mount  Desert ;504 

A  Bit  of  Bar  Island    305 

Bar  Harbor,  from  Bar  Island 300 

Eagle  Lake,  Mount  Desert 307 

Tennis-player 300 

The  Buckboard  Wagon 310 

Cliffs,  Sargent's  Mountain,  from  Jordan's 

Lake ;511 

Traveller's  Room,  Somesville  House. . . .  314 
Woods,  Turtle  Lake,  Mount  Desert  . . .  315 

Clock,  Somesville 317 

The  Ovens,  Moui.t  Desert .'JIO 

Mount  Desert,  from  Sullivan  Harbor. . . .  .'{21 

Wet 321 

A  Sunny  Point  at  Lamoinc 322 

Bits  of  Sullivan  Harbor 323 

Petit  Manan  Light 325 

The  Wharf  in  December 32(S 

Whistling-buoy,  Schoodic  Point :]27 

A  Fisherman's  Cottage 32!) 

The  Carrying  Place 330 

Avery's  Rock,  Machias  I5ay 331 

Sand  Cove,  Petit  Manan 333 

Along  Shore 334 

Old  Man's  Island 337 

Entrance  to  Little  River  Harbor 341 

Where  they  pry  up  the  Sun 34(J 

West  Quoddy  Head,  Lubec 347 

Sir  T.  M.  Hardy  (Portrait) 352 

The  Invader 353 

High  and  1  )ry 354 

Low- water  Mark 355 

Meadow  Brook  Cove,  Campobello 35(5 

East  Quoddy  Light,  Campobello 357 

An  Arm  of  Passamaipioddy  Bay 35!) 

Chamcook  Mountain 300 

Along  the  Wharves,  Siiint  Andrews.  N.B.  301 
A  Bit  of  Joe's  Point,  on  the  Saint  Croix.  302 

De  Monts'  Island 303 

Under  Joe's  Point,  Saint  Andrews,  N.B.  3()3 
Boat-house  and  Wharf,  Grand  Manan  . .  300 

Trend  of  the  Headlands 3(»8 

Cliffs  and  Beach,  Grand  Manan 30!) 

Swallow-tail  Point,  Grand  Manan 372 

Sea-fitull  Cliffs,  (Jrand  Manan 375 

Southern  Cross,  Grand  Manan 379 


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CHAPTER   I. 


KITTERY    AND    THK    l'I8('ATAQUA. 


"  Travel  in  the  younger  sort  Is  a  part  of  education;  in  the  elder,  a  part  of  experience." —  B.vcov. 


i: 


I  HAVE  come  up  the  coast  as  far  as  Portsmouth,  that  historic  vestibule,  so 
to  speak,  through  which  all  travellers  should  pass.  Upon  seeing  the  moun- 
tains of  luggage  encumbering  the  railway  station,  one  would  be  apt  to  fancy 
that  all  roads  led  to  the  ]Maine  coast. 

At  Portsmouth,  we  meet  the  Piscataqua  coming  down  out  of  the  highlands. 
After  gathering  up  its  tributary  streams  in  the  broad  basin  above  the  city,  it 
moves  majestically  on  to  the  ocean  like  an  army  taking  the  field. 

It  is  a  noble  river  here,  broad,  deep,  and  swift,  with  the  city  skirting  it  on 
one  side,  and  the  country  on  the  other.  An  ancient,  thousand-leggcnl  bridge 
creeps  across  from  shore  to  shore,  carrying  the  railway  and  public  road  on  its 
creaking  back ;  also  giving  time  for  a  long  look  down  the  picturesque  windings 
of  the  river,  as  it  turns  now  to  the  right,  now  to  the  left,  in  its  progress  toward 
the  ocean.  No  sooner  has  the  city  receded  behind  us  than  the  monster  ship- 
houses,  drooping  ensigns,  and  tall  chimneys  of  the  Xavy  Yard  rise  above  the 
elms  that  hang  long  mantles  of  brilliant  green  about  the  opposite  shores,  down 

17 


'  (  '  «! 


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18 


TllK    riNK-lHEK   COAST. 


to  the  water's  edge.  We  peer  into  the  shady  nooks  beneath,  where  every  lialf- 
hid  cottage  seems  a  veritabh'  haven  of  rest.  What  a  (^haruiing  contrast  tliere 
is  between  these  graceful  forms,  this  Itrilliant  eoU)ring,  and  inviting  repose,  iind 
the  hard  lines,  dull  ghire,  and  smothered  noises  of  the  city  we  have  left ! 

While  we  are  looking  at  it,  the  river  suddenly  disappears  behind  grassy 
banks  of  velvety  green,  which  advance  out  into  the  stream  from  cither  shore, 
as  if  eager  to  tcmch  the  hem  of  its  life-giving  garment.  Jieyond  this  vanishing- 
point  extends  the  low,  flat  line  where  the  coast  breaks  off  and  tiie  sea  begins, 
though  we  do  not  yet  see  the  ocean  itself.  But  we  know  it  is  there.  A  fresh 
sea-breeze  comes  iip  the  river  to  cool  our  impatience.  It  ripples  across  yonder 
grassy  point  like  a  cat's-paw  on  the  water.  Throw  open  the  windows  and  let 
it  blow  in  our  faces  !  What  an  instant  transformation  that  one  puff  from  Old 
Ocean's  vigorous  lungs  has  effected  in  the  countenances  of  all  the  company  ! 

Five  short  minuti'S  have  sutticed  to  take  us  across  the  frontiers  of  two  sov- 
ereign states,  without  further  formality  than  showing  our  tickets  to  the  con- 
duct(U'.  The  locomotive,  encased  in  its  harness  of  steel,  stands  imi)atiently 
puffing  out  a  column  of  steam  as  we  alight.  The  Pine-Tree  State  is  under  our 
feet. 

Kittery  ^  occupies  the  extreme  southwest  corner  of  Maine.  Here  Ix'gin  the 
twenty-four  hundred  miles  of  seacoast  over  which  we  are  about  to  travel  — 
to  travel  as  men  did  before  the  age  of  steam  had  struck  out  all  the  romance  of 
it  or  before  resigning  themselves  to  methods  of  locomotion  as  insipid  as  they 
are  wearisome  and  unproductive,  and  in  which  one's  only  pur2)ose  in  life  seems 
to  be  to  kill  time.     This  may  be  "  doing ''  a  country,  but  it  is  not  seeing  it. 

Kittery  now  stretches  along  the  Piscataqua  from  the  great  bridge  to  the 
sea.  About  midway  of  its  course,  the  river  throws  oft"  a  large  arm,  at  the  east, 
called  Spruce  Creek,  thus  dividing  Kittery  Foreside  from  Kittery  Point.  When 
we  have  said  that  probably  three-fourths  of  the  whole  area  of  Kittery  is  washed 
by  different  arms  of  the  sea,  it  will  be  seen  why  the  contiguous  shores  and  high- 
lands must  make  unusually  fine  sites  for  these  villages,  besides  rendering  them 
as  accessible  by  water  as  by  land.  In  short,  whatever  direction  one  may  take 
he  is  always  running  up  against  some  creek,  harbor,  or  wandering  stream  to 
diversify  the  landscape  or  refresh  the  eye. 

A  string  of  islands  extends  close  along  the  Kittery  shore.  Perhaps  the 
most  famous  one  of  all  is  Badger's  Island,  on  which  in  the  neighborhood  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  vessels,  large  and  small,  have  been  built,  first  and  last, 
including  the  America,  seventy-four,  which  was  presented  to  Louis  XVI. 

In  walking  from  the  station  to  the  Navy  Yard,  about  the  first  thing  to  attract 
particular  notice  will  be  the  new  library  building,  Avhich  Kittery  owes  to  the 
generosity  of  the  late  Arabella  Rice.  The  village  really  seems  holding  up  its 
head  the  higher  for  it.  When  one  looks  about  him  at  the  number  of  wealthy 
people  who  never  leave  a  penny  out  of  the  family,  one  honors  all  the  more  the 
memory  of  such  a  giver.  This  is  practical  benevolence  indeed ;  this  is  true 
fame ! 


KII  THKY    AND    Till';    I'lSCATAQUA. 


19 


Fvnin  books  to  bombs  tlie  tviiiisitioii  is  soincwluit  violent,  I  iuhnit,  but 
ini'vitablc  lu'ie.  ()nly  a  short  walk  onward  takfs  one  across  the  bridge  leading 
into  the  Navy  Yard  gnninds.'^  Faith,  the  plaee  is  as  peaeeful  as  a  country 
chuHihyard!  I'crt  little  sparrows  were  chirruping  about  the  big  guns  in  the 
artillery  park,  just  as  it'  they  knew  them  to  be  only  so  much  old  iron  encnnd)cr- 
ing  the  ground,  or  had  heard  the  official  utterance  so  lately  given  out,  that  this 
once  famous  dockyard  was  little  better  than  a  ruin.  Going  to  ruin  for  want  of 
tinudy  attention  to  its  needs  would  have  more  aptly  expressed,  perhaps,  its 
present  condition. 

All  the  world  loves  a  sailor.  When  did  (uir  own  Yankee  tars  ever  fail  to 
uphold  tlu'  honor  of  the  dear  old  gridiron '!  Not  since  it  first  Hoated  from  the 
truck  of  yonder  ship,  now  daubed  over  with  unseemly  ochre,  and  desecrated 
with  a  roof  of  \)\\w  boards,  thus  converting  it  into  a  sort  of  Noah's  Ark,  adapted 


OLD   HOU8B   OUTSIDE    PORTSMOUTH. 


for  the  reception  of  some  floating  menagerie.  In  truth,  one  almost  expects  to  see 
the  sign  "  For  Sale,  or  To  Let "  hung  out  over  her  side  !  Tell  me,  messnuite, 
what  ship  is  that,  which  Davy  Crockett  would  have  cleverly  hit  off  as  "half 
horse  and  half  alligator."  "That,  sir,"  says  my  amiable  conductor,  with  a 
shrug,  "is  the  frigate  Coustitntinn." 

"What,  that  nondescript  thing,  — that  Old  Ironsides  ?  " 
We  went  up  over  the  dear  old  barky's  side,  where  Hull  received  Dacres' 
sword ;  Bainbridge,  Lambert's ;  and  Stewart,  not  to  be  outdone,  took  a  brace  of 
them  under  his  arm  at  once.  Shade  of  Bellona  !  And  must  we  then  board  this 
historic  battle-ship  through  a  landlubber's  door,  instead  of  by  the  gangway? 
Once  more  I  read  that  inspiriting  motto  affixed  over  the  cabin  front,  so  familiar 
to  every  schoolboy  in  his  teens,  "  Don't  give  up  the  ship  I "  then  gave  a  glance 
at  the  rough  rafters  overhead,  in  some  doubt  as  to  where  I  was  standing,  and 
grew  hot  and  cold  over  the  crowding  recollections  of  a  glorious  past,  confronted 


iji 


;    I. 


1    :', 


20 


TIIK    I'lNK-'I'KKK   COAST 


l)y  tin-  ••vidciiccH  ahoiit  me  tli:it,  they  have  ^,'iv('ii  up  the  sliip  ul  last  to  rii.st  aiid 

IH!J,M«'('t. 

K(Nilly  tli(!  iiiili)^'iiiiy  ol'  wliidi  llii.s  laiiious  war-sliip  is  tin'  sultjcct  calls 
l(ni(lly  lor  aiMitlicr  stanza  I'lom  tin*  poet  lloliiit's.  She  should  l)i'  lirst  strippt'tl 
of  all  this  unst'i'iiily  i^t'nr,  Iwr  leaks  stopiicii,  her  caiitions  luouutcd,  Iku-  sails 
IxMit,  and  tht'u  she  should  Ix'  ancluirt'd  oil'  the  national  capital,  not  indi-fd  as  a 
i)ul\vark  or  ddi'Mcf, —  since  her  li^ditiii)^' days  are  over, —  hut  as  a  lc;,'acy  Ironi  the 
hiU'oic!  period  of  our  history,  to  the  llahhy  jjatriotisui  of  these  de^,'enerate  days. 
Then,  ind(!e(l,  should  we  once  uiore  set;  Old  ironsides  as  fancy  [laints  her:  — 

"  Willi  riMiiiiy  decks,  her  ;,'iuis  nf  mi^'lity  slrciij,'tli, 
WlioNc  lovv-iiiid  iiioutim  cii(;li  iiniuiUiiiii  l)illi)\v  Iiivch, 
I)<!c|)  ill  licr  ilnui;.(lil,  iiiid  \v;irlil<c  in  licr  Icnjitli, 
Shi'  si'cnicd  a  scii-wu.Hp  llyiii;;  nn  liic  waves. " 

The  road  andiles  pleasantly  on  over  the  hills,  l»y  tln^  rivcM",  till  it  (ionu^s 
to  Spi'iute  Creek,  whitdi   is  crossed  hy  one  of  thost;   relics   of  harltarisni,  a  toll- 

hridj^e.  It  then  mounts  tin;  opposite  hank  to  a 
rather  spaidous  plot  of  ^'round,  about  which  stand 
the  villai^e  lneetin^,'- house,  the  aneicuit  hurial- 
j^rouml,  :ind  one  or  two  old-time  mansions  of  lather 

better  ap]»earan(!e  than  the  houses  we  have  heen  s 

ing  on  our  way  hither. 

The  j;'ind»rel-roof(!d  hous(!  at  the  hdt  is  best 
known  as  the;  Sparhawk  mansion,  from  its  havinj^ 
been  the  I'esidence  of  the  tirst,  th(!  real  Sir  William 
{'eppiircH's  j^nandson,  whose  father  was  (Jolon<d 
Nathaniel  Sparhawk,  merchant,  and  whose  mother 
was  the  tirst  baronet's  only  (hiu^diter,  IClisabeth. 
Old  Sir  William  had  be(!n  bitterly  disappointi-d  in 
not  beinj:f  able  to  transmit  his  tith;  and  estates 
throuj,di  (linMrt  male  (h'scent ;  but  Andr(!W,  his  only 
so)i,  d'wd  a  bacdielor  at  twenty-live,  after  thwarting'  the  lon^-cherished  j»lan  of 
niaii'yin^'  him  to  Jlannah  Waldo,  the  (lau},dit(!r  of  Sir  Williani's  liosom  fri(unl 
and  eompani(jn  in  arms.''  The  tw(j  old  fri»;inls  had  made  tin;  mat(di  over  their 
wine;  but  Andrew  phiyed  fast  and  loose  with  tin;  hidy,  until  forbcutrancc!  eeiised 
to  be  a  virtue  on  Ihm'  part,  and  when  at  hist  he  did  a])i)ear  on  tin;  day  fixed  for 
the  weihliu},',  the  hij;h-spirited  youn;^'  Isidy  told  him  slui  wouhl  never  marry  him 
—  nev(!r.     So  the  match  was  bi'oken  off  then  and  there. 

Sir  William  nmurned  his  s(n)  as  David  mourncMl  for  Absalom,  and  woidd  not 
be  comforted,  llti  then  nuide  his  grandson,  Sparhawk,  his  heir,  on  condition  of 
Sparhawk  taking  the  nana;  of  I'epperell,  which  the  young  man  did;  and  the  title 
was  also  confirmed  to  him  souw.  years  after  his  benefatttor's  death,  though  his 
enjoyment  of  it,  in  the  laml  of  his  birth,  was  short-lived,  indeed,  as  the  n(;w 
baronet's  loyalty  to  his  king  drove  him  into  exile  within  a  year  after  obtaining 


PEi'i'iatKLr.. 


KIITKin'   AND   TIFK    I'FS(ATA(iirA. 


21 


liis  liii'vct.  So  that  lie,  into  whose  hip  riches  aiitl  a  tith-  had  dropped  witlioiit 
Ills  ever  Ht  retelling'  1'orl.h  a  hand,  liad  now  mnhh-nly  to  paek  oH,  h-avinj,'  his  all 
to  the  nieiiy  ol  those  who  were  jiist  now  his  tenants,  Itiit  whom  tlie  turn  <)\' 
events  iiad  nia(h>  ids  niast.ers.  His  fail  natni-ally  carried  witli  it  iniK^i  ol'  tiiat 
t  lailif  ional  respect  in  whicli  the  lanuly  name  had  always  l)een  hehl,  and  when 
contiscation  opened  wide  tlie  (hior  to  ^n-eed  and  phiiider,  ami  all  nnciiaritableness 
liesides,  n(tt  many  <*ared  tn  iemeMii)er  what  they  owed  to  Sir  William  I'eppeiell, 
Senior,  the  man  r,\'  t  he  people. 

The  house  opposite  to  the  mi-etin^'-house  was  l)uilt  Ity  the  lirst  Lady  I*ep- 
perell,  aitiM  ''er  distin;.^uished  husltand's  deutii.  She,  died  here  in  17S',),  alter 
livin;^'  thirty  years  a  widow — years,  some  (d' which  were  passed  in  allluence, 
some  emhittered  l»y  seeinj,'  the  vast  pro|ierty  aecnmnlated  with  so  mmdi  patient 

in  exile,  and   the 

lamily  name  Itccome  the  synonym  I'or  'lory  and  renej^ade.     Nevctr  in  the  history 
ol'  our  country  has 
there  lieeii  a   more 


industry  swept  away  liy  eonliscatioii,  her  daiiLfhter's  hiishanil 


conspicuous  tall 
Iroiii  a  hi^di  estate, 
or  a  mole  complete 
illustration  ol'  IIk; 
vanity  of  riches. 
Not  thirty  years 
alter  the  death  of 
the     coiKjUei'or    of 


Louishiir'f, 


none 


were  so  |)oor  as  lo 


IXICl      MiCI.AKV. 


"ii;i(v   I'oivi 


(to   iiim   revervnce 


It  would  seem  that  the  doom  oi'  the  l'e|)p(U'(dls  was  to  he  transmitted  to  all 
who  should  inhabit  that  house.  A  ltli;,dit  sei-med  to  have  lalleii  upon  it,  whicdi 
consumed  tins  lives  and  rortuiies  ol'  a,  family,  until  its  evil  destiny  was  fully 
accomplished.  In  all  the  world  there  is  nothing,'  so  ]»ainful  as  the  history  of  a 
faiiiily  predestined  to  misfortune.  Let  us  draw  the  veil  of  silenct?  over  it  and 
jtass  on. 

It  is  not  mneh  farther  to  the  hreczy  hill-top  wher(^  Fort  Mc(,'hiiy  commands 
the  river's  mouth.  The  war  left  it  unlinished;  peace  finds  it  ne^lectted  and  dis- 
mantled. An  old  block  house  crowns  the  lieiirht  picturescpiely.  The  view  from 
the  ramparts  is  as  beautiful  as  it  is  extensive.  1  stood  there  at  sunset,  watching 
th(f  fading  splendors  of  the  day  die  away  into  the  softer  radiance  of  a  j,;lorions 
rising  moon.  Away  ont  on  the  distant  horizon  a  dusky  elond  hung  low  over 
the  still  sea.  The  west  wind,  a  herald  of  fine  weather,  had  driven  it  off  to  its 
lair,  where  it  sulhiidy  (irouehed  as  if  biding  its  time.  Tpon  Uw  darkening 
waves  the  great  whit(i  moon  was  beginning  to  sctatter  her  silvery  scales.  At 
the  opposite;  shore  of  tin;  harbor,  Fort  Constitution  showed  a  jiale  light,  and  tlio 
island  at  the  mouth  of  the   river,  another ;  and  still   farther  out,  across  the 


22 


THE   I'INE-TREE  C(JAST. 


struggling,  sparkling,  uanciug  moonglade,  the  Isles  of  Shoals  were  just  visible 
in  the  gathering  gloom.  Siuldenly  a  light  shot  out  of  the  darkness  ;  then  it  as 
suddenly  vanished,  and  all  seemed  blacker  than  before.  That  was  AVhite  Island 
Light  going  its  rounds.  It  is  no  stupid  hxed  light,  like  those  I  saw  winking 
and  blinking  at  the  moon's  beams  below  me,  but  darts  its  clear  ray  into  every 
nook  and  corner  of  the  wilderness  of  waters,  up  and  down  the  long  reaches  of 


I      1 


^  fT'-K' 


WENTWOUTll    MANSION-    AND    MOI'TII    OK    THK    I'isr ATAQfA. 


the   coast,  as   if  searching  out  some  ship  to  guide  or  some  lieart  to  cheer.     O 
sailor  on  the  stormy  sea,  be  this  thy  nightly  hail ! 

"  Lead,  kindly  Light !  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 
Lead  thou  me  on  ; 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home  ; 
Lead  thou  me  on." 

The  reverse  of  the  hill  drops  us  gently  down  among  the  houses  at  Kittery 
Point. 


I 


KITTERY  AND  THE  PISCATAQUA. 


2;i 


-S 


wiiai.k's  hack. 


Kittery  Point  has  grown  to  be  a  place  of  considerable  resort  for  people  who 
do  not  demand  of  the  landlord  his  list  of  attractions  in  advance,  but  are  con- 
tent to  live  outside  the  busth;  of  the  so-called  fashionable  colonies,  into  which 
a  continued  round  of  gayety  intrudes  its  unwelcome  reminders  of  the  great 
noisy  world  all  too  prominently. 

The  Point  has  an  interesting  liistory, 
much  of  which  is  associated  with  the  for- 
tunes of  a  single  family,  —  a  family  of 
merchants,  or,  if  you  will,  traders,  — 

"  Peering  In  maps  for  polls,  and  piers,  and  roads." 

And  this  neighborhood  is  intimately 
associated  with  the  i-ise  of  the  Pepperells, 
as  that  a  little  way  back  is  with  what  may 
be  termed  their  decline  and  fall .  The  portly 
gand)rel-roof  house  in  which  Sir  William 
lived  and  died  is  still  a  prominent  land- 
mark here,  even  in  the  midst  of  a  crowding  settlement ;  perhaps  quite  as  much 
on  account  of  its  unusual  size,  fine  situation,  and  Avell-known  history  as  anything 
else,  for  it  is  certainly  plain  to  homeliness,  th(mgh  it  looks  good  for  another 
century.  "We  say  at  once  that  this  house  was  not  built  for  show,  but  use.  It 
further  informs  us  that  the  builders  wei-e  plain,  substantial  men,  to  whom  th  > 
refinements  of  life  were  neither  known  nor  necessary.  And  when  the  day  of 
ease  and  luxury,  for  whicdi  they  had  toiled,  came  at  last,  and  the  old  house  was 
stuffed  full,  from  garret  to  cellar,  with  plate,  paintings,  fine  furniture,  rare  old 
china,  old  wines,  and  all  that,  Sir  William  certainly  showed  a  sturdy  indepen- 
dence in  sticking  to  the  homely  mansion  which  held  for  him  the  tenderest 
associations  of  his  whole  life :  we  like  him  for  this  trait.  It  is  a  fact  that  pros- 
perity never  turned  this  steady  head :  we  honor  him  for  that. 

A  few  steps  beyond  the  Pep^perell  mansion  is  the  Pray  homestead.  It  looks, 
perhaps,  just  a  trifle  rustier  and  grayer  than  it  did  fifteen  years  ago.  l)ut  is  still 
enjoying  a  hale  old  age.     It  is  much  older 

than  the  Pepperell  mansion,  of  which  it  is  in  ^--     - — ^■-      --^    ' 

some  sort  the  progenitor;  for  John  Pray,  ship- 
wright, gave  the  house-lot  on  which  the  man- 
sion stands  to  AVilliam  I'epperell,  fisherman, 
when  William  married  Margery,  Pray's  daugh- 
ter. In  course  of  time  a  second  William  Pep- 
perell came  upon  the  scene,  who  was  destined 
to  make  some  noise  in  the  world ;  and  who, 
as  the  thrifty  son  of  a  thrifty  father,  enlarged  the  house  his  sire  had  built, 
married  him  a  wife,  and  jogged  on  comfortably  with  the  old  folks,  in  spite  of 
that  odious  old  adage  which  says  that  no  roof  is  broad  enough  to  cover  two 
families  at  once. 


MAKTEI.f.O    TOWER,     NEWCA8TLK    SIDE. 


tv.\ 


i! 


24 


THE   PINE-TREE  COAST. 


Just  below  the  mansion,  <at  the  waterside,  are  the  wharves  where  the  I^ep- 
perells  transticted.  their  extensive  business.  The  space  between  was  formerly  a 
fine  grass-lawn.  At  the  back  of  the  house,  in  the  grounds  where  the  baronet 
lies  buried,  was  the  orchard,  and  the  two  or  three  fine  elms  still  standing 
about  here  are  the  sole  relics  of  an  avenue  that  we  are  told  once  reached  as  far 
as  the  village  church. 

Nobody  holds  such  a  distinctive  place  in  the  community  nowadays  as  these 
Pepperells  did  in  the  day  of  their  prosperity.  When  anything  of  moment  was 
being  talked  of,  the  question  with  one  and  all  would  be.  What  does  Colonel  Pep- 
perell  say  ?  If  a  man  had  saved  a  few  pounds  against  a  rainy  day,  he  begged 
Colonel  Pei)perell  to  take  care  of  it  for  him.  If  he  wanted  to  borrow,  Colonel 
Pepperell  was  his  banker.  Indeed,  all  roads  led  to  the  Pepperell  wharves  or 
warehouses ;  for  whether  a  man  had  something  to  sell  or  something  to  buy,  he 
must  look  here  alike  for  his  market.  Pepperell  owned  whole  townships.  He 
gave  employment  to  half  the  county.  All  this  denotes  a  man  of  large  capacity, 
of  influence  ;  a  man  of  substance  and  authority  among  men,  —  in  short,  a  poten- 
tial factor  wherever  he  might  elect  to  cast  in  the  weight  of  his  support. 

The  discerning  eye  of  William  Shirley  singled 
out  this  self-made  man  of  the  peojile  to  lead  the 
undis('i])lined  Xew  England  yeomanry  against  Louis- 
burg.  The  world  has  usually  argued  that  poor 
soldiers  ought  to  have  the  best  generals,  but  in  this 
case  the  general  was  to  be  no  better  than  his  men. 
Flattered,  yet  perplexed  by  the  offer,  Avhich  Avas 
artfully  made,  Pepperell  asked  George  AVliitefield 
what  he  honestly  thought  about  it.  The  great 
l)rea('her  advised  against  its  acceptance,  as  any  man 
in  lii.s  senses  was  bound  to  do.  Shirley's  flattery 
had,  however,  taken  effect.  Pepperell's  ambition 
was  kindled;  nc  had  faith  in  his  destiny,  and  his 
own  private  interests  were  as  much  at  stake  as  any 
man's  in  the  province.  So  he  buckled  on  his  yet 
undrawn  sword,  raised  his  now  historic  standard,  opened  his  purse  liberally, 
and  went  and  took  Louisburg  in  defiance  alike  of  all  military  maxims  and 
precedent,  as  of  the  predictions  of  t".  3  wiseacres  of  his  time.  Good  luck  and 
audacity  fought  Avith  him,  and  he  won.  I  had  almost  forgotten  that  audacity 
is  the  first  of  military  maxims.  It  is  cpiite  safe  to  say,  however,  that  if  Pep- 
perell had  foreseen  the  difficulties  that  lay  in  his  path,  he  would  have  thought 
twice  before  undertaking  the  task  cut  out  for  him. 

When  Sir  William  came  home  from  England,  with  his  honors  thick  upon 
liim,  he  adopted  a  style  of  living  more  befitting  his  station.  He  set  up  a 
coach,  had  a  barge  manned  by  black  oarsmen  in  livery,  increased  the  number 
of  his  household  servants,  and  kept  open  house  for  all  who  claimed  its 
hospitality.    It  was  then  that  he  set  about  those  schemes  for  beautifying  his 


WHITEFIELD    AT   TWENTY-NINE. 


KITTEllY   AND   THE   PISCATAQUA. 


25 


far 


estate,  of  which,  unfortunately,  so  few  tnices  remain  to-day.      So  much  for 
revohitions. 

Maine  has  thus  had  the  honor  of  producing  two  men  of  very  dissimihir  char- 
acter Avho  received  esi)ecial  marks  of  distinction  at  the  hands  of  royalty.  The 
difference  between  them  is  that  Sir  Willi;  ju  Phips  bought  his  title  with  Si)anish 
gold,  while  Sir  William  Pepperell  won  his  in  the  trenches  of  Louislnirg. 

Just  a  word  more  about  the  expedition  itself. 

When  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  the  incompetent  minister  of  George  II.,  was 
appealed  to  by  Governor  Shirley  to  defend  Xova  Scotia,  he  broke  out  with, 
"  Uh  I  —  yes  — yes  —  to  be  sure  —  Annapolis  miist  be  defended  —  troops  must 
be  sent  to  Annapolis,  l^ray,  where  is  Annapolis  ?  —  Cape  Breton  an  island  ? 
wonderful!  Show  it  me  on  the  map  —  so  it  is,  sure  enough.  (To  the  bearer 
of  the  dispatch),  '•  ^ly  dear  sir,  you  always  bring  us  good  news.  I  must  go  tell 
the  king  that  Cape  Breton  is  an  island." 

From  the  high  ground  about  Fort  McClary  one  gets  an  excellent  view  of 
Gerrish's  Island,  the  outermost  land  of  Kittery,  and  probable  seat  of  its  earliest 
settlement.  Its  situation  is  hardly  surpassed  on  the  whole  coast  of  Maine. 
Lying,  as  it  does,  at  •^he  entrance  to  the  Piscataqua,  it  looks  broad  off  to  sea, 
commands  the  whole  breadth  of  Ipswich  Bay, 
sees  all  the  ships  sail  in  and  out  of  port, 
counts  all  the  harbor  lights,  and  hears  the 
wash  of  the  restless  waves  alov.g  its  storm - 
dented  coast.  Within  the  river's  mouth  it 
encloses  a  quiet  basin  where  many  a  vessel 
has  rode  out  the  gale  that  would  else  have 
sent  her  to  the  bottom,  Cutts  island,  from 
which  Gerrish's  is  barely  divided  by  a  strip 
of  marsh,  continues  the  coast  as  far  as  Brave 
Boat  Harbor,  an  inlet  separating  Kittery  from 
York. 

Though  identified  -n.th  the  history  of 
Kittery  from  so  early  a  day,  not  many  years 
ago  these  islands  contained  only  a  few  scattered  farmhouses  to  which  one 
rough  road  led  the  way.  Visitors  were  then  few  and  far  between.  And  save 
where  a  few  clearings  had  subdued  it  to  the  farmer's  liaud,  the  greater  portion 
still  lay  tossed  and  tumbled  about,  in  rocky  pastures,  wooded  iVlls,  or  low-lyiig 
fens  bristling  with  roagh  thickets,  quite  as  the  first  settlers  found  it.  Tue  besr, 
land  had  little  value,  and  the  worst  none  at  all.  But  note  the  changes  of  tinu'. 
Within  a  few  short  years  the  old  owners  have  been  bought  off,  and  their  humble 
dwellings  replaced  by  handsome  residences.  The  old  breakneck  bridge  across 
Chauncy's  Creek  has  given  place  to  a  modern  structure,  ni'w  roads  have  been 
opened,  hotels  built,  and  such  general  transformation  effected  that  identification 
of  the  old  sites  has  become  difficult,  to  say  the  least.  I  missed  those  sturdy- 
looking,  weather-beaten  old  farmhouses,  with   their   mammoth  chimneys  and 


(JliAVKS    OF    THE    SETTLKKS. 


r^ 


26 


THK    I'lXK-TKKK   COASl'. 


long  well-sweeps.  Somehow  they  seemed  more  closely  knit  to  the  nature  of 
the  place  —  to  that  blending  of  simplicity,  wildness,  and  seclusion;  that  absence 
of  everything  which  recalls  the  city  to  us,  and  is  our  ideal  oi'  a  country  life. 
Yet  one  can  but  look  on  at  all  this  uprooting  of  old  landmarks  with  a  shrug  of 
submission.     I'ray  Heaven  they  do  not  uproot  all  the  old  tradi*  ons  as  well  I 

The  tide  is  el)bing  fast,  uncovering  the  flats  as  it  goes  out.  We  do  n(jt  And 
the  ])ungent,  salty  exhalations  it  sends  forth  at  all  unpleasant,  or  the  noonday 
heatj  which  an  hour  ago  was  stifling  us,  so  oppressive.  A  light  air,  cool  and 
refreshing,  brings  with  it  the  fragrance  it  has  just  brushed  from  the  sweet- 
scented,  red-and-white  clover-flelds  that  border  upon  the  sea. 

For  many.  Cutts'  Island  holds  a  sentimental  interest  from  its  having  been 
sometime  the  home  of  an  English  gentleman,  of  whom  there  is  little  else  to  say 
except  that  he  was  of  gentle  blood.  Not  far  from  the  Thaxter  residence  there 
is  a  routjh-walled  inclosure  in  which  manv  <j:eneiations  of  the  Cuttses  lie  buried 


i— ^.^-„S3fl 


CHAMPERXOWNI.  S    (iH.WK. 


Avithout  stone  or  monument.     Even  the  graves  themselves  are  half  hid  under  a 

covering  of  coarse,  wiry  grass  and  trip])ing  vines.     In  one  corner,  beneath  a  heap 

of  loose  stones,  like  those  of  the  wall  beside  it,  tradition  Inys  the  bones  of  that 

Francis  Champei-nowne*  whose  father  obtained  a  grant  of  this  island  as  far  back 

as  the  3'ear  IG^O.     These  Champernownes  were  of  pui-e  Xornuin  descent,  and 

were  related  In' marriage  to  the  famous  Raleighs  and  Gilberts — bold  navigators 

all.     Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges,  the  founder  of  Maine,  made  every  effort  to  induce 

men  of  (piality  to  cross  the  sea,  and  realize  his  hopes.    The  secpiel  is  well  shown 

by  this  lonely  grave  with 

"  only  cobble.stoneH 

To  tell  us  where  are  Chaiupernowne's  poor  bones.'' 

But  here  we  are  at  last  at  the  outer  shore  of  the  island  where  the  untamed 
billows  come  straight  in  from  Old  Ocean's  heaving  bosom.     "We  could  hear  the 


KITTEUV   AND    TlIK    I'ISCATAQUA. 


27 


noise  of  their  fall  when  we  were  back  among  the  woods  — a  confused  hum  like 
that  of  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops.  It  is  our  first  greeting,  So  let  us  take  our 
stand  on  this  rock,  and  look  about  us. 

Was  there  ever  such  a  ragged-looking  coast  ?  Two  thousand  miles  of  rocks 
and  sands  and  tumbling  surf  !  Bays  eating  their  way  hito  it ;  rivers  gnawing 
their  way  out  of  it ;  storms  crushing  and  ice  grinding  it  everywhere ;  yet  show- 
ing its  teeth  as  grimly  and  vi(dously  as  if  all  this  hard  pounding  did  but  nerve 
it  to  sterner  defiance,  and  like  an  untamed  lion,  growling  the  loilder  at  every 
blow  the  ocean  deals  it. 

It  would  be  strange  indeed  to  find  a  league  of  such  coast  without  its  story 
of  shipwreck.  In  the  equinoctial  gale  of  ]March,  1870,  the  brig  Ilattie  Eaton, 
l)()und  from  Cienfuegos  to  Boston,  struck  on  this  very  island,  and  all  on  board 
perished  except  the  first  mate.  This  was  the  way  it  happened :  Finding  that 
lu'  was  driving  on  a  lee  shore,  and  that  nothing  else  could,  save  them,  Cai)tain 
Cook  steered  for  Avhat  looked  like  a  strip  of  smooth  water  among  the  roaring 
breakers.  It  was  their  last  hope.  On  forged  the  unlucky  brig  to  her  doom.  A 
monster  breaker  lifted  her  between  two  rocks,  where  she  was  left  immovably 
wedged  within  only  a  few  cables'  lengths  of  the  shore.  The  rocks  lield  her  fast, 
while  the  seas  were  pounding  her  to  pieces,  and  Hooding  her  deck  with  water, 
i'ecjple  ran  up  and  down  the  shore,  eager  to  give  aid,  but  only  to  find  themselves 
hel[)less  witnesses  of  the  work  of  destruction ;  for  it  was  certain  death  to  attempt 
to  reach  the  vessel,  in  the  teeth  of  such  a  surf  as  broke  between  ship  and  shore. 
The  captain,  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  faced  di'ath  without  fiinching,  worked  his 
way  out  over  the  bow,  to  where  he  could  make  himself  heard  by  those  on  shore, 
and  stood  there  calmly  shouting  out  his  farewell  messages  to  his  wife  and  own- 
ers, until  a  death-dealing  Avave  swe[)t  him  away  from  his  hold  on  the  rigging. 

Thus,  one  by  one,  the  crew  were  torn  from  their  places  of  refuge,  to  be 
dashed  lifcdess  against  the  sharp  rocks.  It  was  a  terrible  scene  for  the  specta- 
tors'—  almost  too  much  for  fiesh  and  blood  to  bear.  Once,  and  only  once,  by 
taking  hold  of  hands,  and  thus  forming  a  sort  of  living  chain,  they  succeeded 
in  getting  near  the  brig  by  making  a  desperate  rush  out  in  the  wake  of  a  reced- 
ing breaker,  when  the  foremost  man  seized  the  mate's  outstretched  hand,  and 
dragged  him  back  to  the  shore  more  dead  than  alive.     All  the  rest  perished. 


1  Tlu're  is  reason  to  beliove  that  X\\v.  settlement,  l)e<;iin  on  the  south  V)ank  of  the  river, 
(luicltly  extended  itself  t:>  the  north  side.  Both  came  under  the  general  head  of  the  I'iscat- 
aiiua  plantations.  Ivittery  was  the  first  town  incorporated  in  Maine,  1(!47.  It  had  an 
innnense  territory,  including  nmch  of  what  is  now  York  County.  Thus  Kliot  and  all  the 
lierwicks  fonued  part  of  original  Kittery.  Most  of  the  men  who  were  prominent  in  tlu- 
settlement  of  Portsmouth  also  took  part  in  settling  this  corner  of  Maine. 

-  In  180(5  the  government  bought  Fernald's  Island  for  public  purposes,  and  has  since 
acquired  Seavey's,  the  next  adjoining  one.  Before  this,  several  cruisers  of  the  olil  navy  had 
been  built  in  the  private  yards  of  this  river,  as  ship-timber  and  masts  could  be  had  here  in 
greater  abundance  than  in  any  other  New  England  port.     The  Kearaarge  is  the  most  famous 


'!  ! 


28 


THE   riNE-TREE   COAST. 


war-ship  this  yard  has  so  far  turned  out ;  but  tlie  want  of  any  settled  policy  with  regard  to 
maintaining  either  this  or  other  dockyards  renders  it  doubtful  if  we  shall  be  able  to  build  a 
navy  when  we  want  it  most. 

8  Andrew  Pepperell  died  after  a  short  illness  contracted  by  crossing  the  river,  late  at 
night,  after  attending  a  gay  party  at  rortsmouth.  Within  a  few  weeks  Miss  Waldo  gave  her 
hand  to  Crown  Secretary  Flucker,  by  whom  she  had  a  daughter,  Lucy,  who  became  Mrs. 
General  Knox.     See  chapter  on  Thomaston. 

*  It  would  be  more  surprising  to  find  one  of  these  early  graves  marked  by  any  stone. 
Champernowne  is  called  Gorges'  nephew,  because  his  father  and  Sir  Ferdinando  married  sis- 
ters. For  the  rest,  he  did  little  to  cause  his  nana-  to  be  remembered,  lie  is  first  found  at 
rortsmouth,  where  he  owned  property  as  early  as  1040. 


MAINE    ARMS. 


i 


WHITE    ISLAND. 

CHAI'TEK   II. 

TJIK    ISLKS    OV    .SHOALS. 

"  I  marked  the  plunge  of  the  muffled  deep 

()u  its  sandy  reaches  breaking."  —  In<;ku>w, 

PERHaPS  no  part  of  the  Maine  coast  has  had  such  distingixished  and 
appreciative  annalists  as  the  half-dozen  fragments  of  wave-worn  rock, 
thrust  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  sea  at  her  southeast  border,  like  the  cast-off 
remnants  of  a  continent.  A  delightful  half-day  might  be  spent  simply  in  turn- 
ing over  the  literature  to  which  the  Isles  of  Shoals  have  given  rise.  By  what 
happy  accident,  we  ask,  are  the  men  and  women  who  have  written  about  these 
islands  both  gifted  and  distinguished ;  or  is  there  really  something  inspiring  or 
out  of  the  common  in  this  much-talked-of  little  archipelago  ? 

In  his  "American  ^ote-Books"  ]\[r.  Hawthorne  seems  to  have  taken  out  his 
note-book  the  moment  he  found  himself  alone.  For  instance,  he  says  :  "  It  is 
quite  impossible  to  give  an  idea  of  these  j  jcky  shores',  —  how  confusedly  they 
are  bound  together,  lying  in  all  directions :  what  solid  ledges,  what  great  frag- 
ments thrown  out  from  the  rest !  Often  the  rocks  are  broken  square  and 
angular,  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  staircase :  though  for  the  most  part,  such  as 
would  require  a  giant  to  stride  over  them.  .  .  .  But  it  is  vain  to  try  to  ex])rt'ss 
this  confusion.  As  much  as  anything  else,  it  seems  as  if  some  of  the  inassive 
materials  of  the  world  remained  superfluous  after  the  Creator  had  tinished.  and 
were  carelessly  thrown  down  here,  where  the  millionth  part  of  them  emerge 
from  the  sea,  and  in  the  course  of  thousands  of  years  have  become  i)artially 
bestrewn  with  a  little  soil.  .  .  .  Pour  the  blue  sea  about  these  islets,  and  let 
the  surf  whiten  and  steal  up  from  their  points,  and  from  the  reefs  about  them 
(which  latter  whiten  for  an  instant  and  then  are  lost  in  the  whelming  and 
eddying  depths),  the  northwest  wind  the  while  raising  thousands  of  white- 
caps,  and  the  evening  sun  shining  solemnlj  over  the  expanse,  —  and  it  is  a 
stern  jind  lovely  scene." 

29 


30 


'IlIK    l'INi:-ri{KK   COAST. 


In  Lowell's  "l^ictures  from  ApplcMloro,"  we  have  the  environment  of  the 
Isles  set  out  in  verse,  —  verse  in  wliieh  the  rugged  energy  of  the  rhythm  sends 
the  salt  sj»ray  tossing  about  tis  again  with  all  its  wildness  and  freedom. 


>^:rl»  •'^cut^, J  _ 


SMUTTY-NOSE    ISLAND. 


*'  Away  northwest  is  Boone  Island  light ; 
You  might  mistake  it  for  a  ship. 
Only  it  stands  too  plumb  upright, 
And  like  the  others  does  not  slip 
Behind  the  sea's  unsteady  brink. 

***** 
Look  northward,  where  Duck  Island  lies, 
And  over  its  crown  you  will  see  arise. 
Against  a  background  of  slaty  skies, 

A  row  of  pillars  still  and  white, 

That  glinnner,  and  then  are  out  of  sight. 
***** 
Look  southward  for  White  Island  light ; 

The  lantern  stands  ninety  feet  o'er  the  tide. 
There  is  first  a  half-mile  of  tumult  and  fight, 
Of  dash  and  roar  and  tumble  and  fright. 

And  surging  bewilderment  wild  and  wide, 
Where  the  breakers  struggle  left  and  right. 

Then  a  mile  or  more  of  rushing  sea, 
And  then  the  lighthouse  slim  and  lone." 

Even  the  gentle  Mrs.  Partington  has  a  straggle  between  her  sense  of  the 
ridiculous  and  her  feeling  for  the  sublime,  with  the  one  or  the  other  alternately 
getting  the  upper  hand,  as  she  pens  her  parody  of  Byron's  famous  ode  because 
she  must :  — 


rilK    ISLKS    OF    SHOALS. 


31 


"  Tlu!  Isles  of  Shoals  !     The  Isles  of  Shoals  1 

W'iiere  tuneful  Celia  loved  ami  suiif,', 
Where  the  free  billow  ever  rolls, 

Where  ( )8car  rose  and  Ceclric  spnuif; ; 
The  sununer  j;lory  fiilds  their  shore, 
And  crowns  the  cliffs  of  Appledore." 

Then  tlii'n^  is  Mrs.  Thaxter,  who  so  often 

'•  Lit  the  lamps  in  the  lighthouse  tower ;  " 

for  her  father,  Thomas  ]..  Laighton,  who  kept  the  light,  liad  taught  her  liow  to 
tend  them  as  well  as  he  eouhl  himself.  JJut  the  daiigliter  saw  some  things 
that  the  father  could  not.  Nature  had  gifted  her  with  poetic  vision.  Soli- 
tude had  strength- ned  its  contemplative  side.  The  islands  were  not  only  her 
home,  they  were  her  world  of  worlds,  where  every  day  showed  something  new ; 
therefore  their  wild  crags  and  hidden  nooks  were  her  books  to  read  in.  One 
might  almost  call  her  a  child  of  the  sea.  She  has,  therefore,  given  us  the  best 
accottnt  of  them,  in  many  respects,  that  has  yet  been  written.  Her  versihed 
story  of  the  "  Wreck  of  the  Pocahontas  "  gives  one  terrible  passing  glimpse  at 
a  scene  of  which  landsmen  know  little,  though  most  dwellers  by  the  sea  have 
heard  Avith  a  sluuhler  that  sound  they  will  never  forget, — the  minute-gun  at 

sea! 

•'  When  morning  dawned,  above  the  din 
( )f  gale  and  breakers  boomed  a  gun  ! 
Another  !     We  who  sat  within 
Answered  with  cries  each  one." 

So  Mrs.  Thaxter's  monody  over  the  "  Spaniards'  Graves,"  on  Smutty-Nose 
Island,  is  an  outburst  of  womanly  tenderness  for  those  poor  watchers  who, 
from  a  foreign  strand,  in  sunny  Spain,  in  vain 

■■'  Questioned  the  distance  for  the  yearning  sail." 

And  so  we  might  go  on  enlarging  the  list  of  those  who  have  enriched  the 
islands  with  the  best  thoughts  that  have  sprung  up,  like  flowers  among  rocks, 
into  perennial  bloom.  Mr.  John  W.  Chadwick,  Mr.  John  Scribner  Jenness,  and 
Miss  Sarah  0.  Jewect  have  made  valuable  contributions  to  the  literary  sym- 
posium, not  to  speak  of  the  letter-writers  whose  name  is  legion,  and  whose 
effusions  have  gone  adrift  on  the  great  ocean  of  forgetfulness,  along  with  the 
flotsam  and  jetsam  of  Time. 

It  is  again  Mrs.  ]*artington  who  assists  us  to  an  ai)ropos  verse  :  — 

"  The  city  and  the  country's  muse 

—  Reporter's  pen  and  artist's  brush  — 
Here  let  their  admiration  loose, 

And  with  ecstatic  raptures  gush. 
While  every  soul- enchanted  guest 

Says,  '  Other  isles  and  scenes  be  —  blessed  ! '  " 

All  this  advances  us  at  least  one  stage  in  our  inquiry.  Perhaps  a  rapid 
retrospect  of  the  history  of  the  islands  will  advance  us  another. 


1t! 


1<  i 


;:i 


32 


TIIK  VINK-TUKK  COAST. 

We  are  aui..  save  ^^J^„^^  „,  the  N..-  Kn«la;.a      a  ^^^^  • 

l,eeau8»  Ghaml.la.u  has  t,  v  ^,^,^^„^^i  f„r  Ca  .t.  m  o  ^^  j. 

^  to  make  that  V"'"'     ^  J'!^^^^^^  ,,,  a 

:::r;."n.eu.oeu...-'----^^^^^^^^^^^ 

you  can  liaT<!ly  pab.     v                    „     ^j-^  ^^.^^i  thus  btcou  ^^^ 

L  .„.  sho.t  ^l;;;;;^  :>;;;::, -X,;  Oo,s  «ive„  then^ia^ow^^^^^^ 
was  ui  KjI-*-      ^"     °  .  U 


K*      ....  londonek's  island. 

•   •    ,  them  a  very  indifferent  character, 

,  it  nobody  seen>s  to  know  just  -'•'"^'^^^  „e  think  itn.ight  he  t>««l 
at  it,  noDoa;y  ^^^^  reason ,  tuou^n  sprinkled. 

,  .ip.l  liasone  ot  Saint  Jean  lie  1^"'-. "  ,        ],„,i   ,„evely 

swart  and  l«-'-'l«l»^^^^.        ^.j^,  ,ong,  long  '-'"^;^^f  ^  ,a\J.perately  bore 
T  rtToff  t  «  iUov  hLing  their  way  to  ^^jf^^,  ;„.„  .t  leas, 

w^rtr.     They  were  supposed  to  have  gone  to  look 


TllK    ISLKS   OF   SHOALS. 


,'{3 


aiiy- 
isil»l«'. 

\i\    1)0 

yt'iir, 

t'Vt'V 
I'oUgUt 

11  iwak- 
1  (■>().■), 

a  »v  ay 
uitli  to 

No  lot 
1  aro  a 
^  whins 

lit  tllVl'O 

B.     This 
'act  does 


character, 
iiuportauc6 

veil  a  gviess 
roup,  or  by 
it  be  traced 
s  sprinkled, 
s.     Many  a 
jisbona,  saw 
had    merely 
erately  bore 
■ars,  at  least, 
tew  hundred 

)  Sir  Walter 
3rt,  ran  away 
33t  Virginian 


colony,  but  made  port  under  Cuttyhunk  Island  instead,  built  a  fort  there,  tMit 
eetlar  imd  sassafras  wood,  saw  tlie  peoph',  and  so  began  tlu*  history  of  New 
England.      An  odd  l)eginning,  it  must  h(^  confessed. 

This  lirst  New  England  cargo  evta-  shipix'd 
to  a  fort'ign  jjort  somewhat  appea.se(l  Sir  Wal- 
ter's wrath  against  his  neidiew,  as  it  more  than 
saved  the  charge  of  the  voyage.  In  the  letter 
from  which  these  facts  are  taken,  Jialeigh  angrily 
refers  to  liis  kinsman  as  "my  Lord  Cobham's 
man,"  but  in  a  posts(;ript  he  so  far  relents  as  to 
say  "all  is  confiscate,  but  he  shall  have  his  own 
again." 

A  not  unpleasing  myster>%  therefore,  liangs 
over  these  islands.  AVheu  it  breaks  away,  we 
see  a  few  poor  fishermen's  huts  perched  on  the 
rugged  (diffs  of  Ajipledore,  t(»  which  a  steep  path 
winds  up  the  rocks  from  the  harbor  shore.  We 
know  not  whence  the}'  cann;  or  how.     We  may  never  know. 

For  a  hundred  years  tin;  islands  afford  few  materials  for  Instory.  They 
Avere  first  iniduded  in  the  (diarter  granted  to  Gorges  and  Mason  in  liVJ'J,  by 
Avhich  the  pi'ovince  of  Elaine  was  formally  endowed  with  a  name,  if  little  else. 
Though  this  instrument  does  not  mention  the  Shoals,  it  took  in  all  islands 
lying  within  five  leagues  of  the  coast.     Seven  years  hiter,  in  KL't),  when  the 


SASXAI'KAS. 


Avri.KnoKi;,   ikom  star  tslaxp. 


Province  of  New  Hampshire  was  created  for  jNFason's  benefit,  new  charters 
carried  the  line,  dividing  the  two  provinces,  through  the  middle  of  the  Shoals, 
thus  permanently  attaching  half  to  Elaine  and  half  to  New  Hampshire. 

Gorges  and  Mason  had  already  si)ent  about  three  thousand  pounds  during 


V,J. 


1  1 


.'U 


rili;    IMNK-TKKK    COAST. 


the  period  covered  by  these  piitents,  in  tryinj;  to  establish  u  coiiimerciul  plan- 
tiitiou  oil  the  risciituipiii,  jiiid  hud  t'aih'd ;  but  their  et'i'orts  brou^lit  the  Siioals 
more  and  more  into  notice  as  a  tisliing-station.  and  so  ships  were  eonstantly 
coming  and  K<'i"^''  either  upon  (Jorges'  business  or  their  own,  between  tlie 
years   KIL'.'J  and    ]{VJ\). 

The  two  lathers  of  }s'ew  England  colonization  would  not  give  in  beaten  yet. 
In  the  y(!ar  UVM  ;':•  v  took  six  London  merchants  into  partnership  with  them- 
selves, ))roeured  another  e()mi)act  little  patent,  embracing  both  sides  of  the 
I'iseataipia,  as  high  \ip  as  Dover  Point,  and  again  set  about  the  task  of  build- 
ing up  a  great  mirsery  for  shipping  and  mariners.  The;  Isles  of  Shoals  were 
put  into  this  i)atent  as  eonunon  property. 

This  promising  association  lasted,  however,  but  two  years  before  it  was  dis- 
solved as  tending  more  to  bankrupt  its  })romoters  than  meet  their  expectations 
of  honor  or  i)rotit. 

Mason  died  in  lOMH.  The  indefatigable  Gorges  obtained,  in  l(i.'i!),  from  the 
king,  a  new  charter  of  the  Trovince  of  Maine,  constituting  him  loi(l-])roprietor. 
Onee  more  the  north  half  of  the  Shoals  came  under  his  authority.  Xo  record 
remains  to  show  just  at  what  time  the  islands  received  separate  names :  but 
Appledore,'  Duck,  Smutty-Nose,  Mahiga,  and  Cedar  were  those  then  set  apart 
to  Sir  Ferdinando;  Star,  White,  and  Londoner's  remaining  to  New  Hampshire. 
This  anomahms,  and  in  some  respects  ridiculous,  ])artition  carried  juris- 
diction with  it.  so  that  when  it  became  necessary  to  extend  municipa)  govern- 
ment to  the  islands,  Maine's  half  was 
annexed  to  Kittery,  and  New  Ilami)- 
shire's  to  Newcastle  for  convenience' 
sake. 

What  had  long  been,  perhaps,  only 
a  rendezvous  for  occasional  iishing- 
ships  began  to  show  its  first  i)erma- 
nent  settlers  at  about  this  time;  yet 
there  is,  as  we  have  said,  no  definite 
period  at  which  we  can  sepsirate  the 
actual  from  the  floating  population. 
The  first  occupants  were  guided  to 
Appledore,  no  doubt,  by  the  sjtring 
existing  there  at  which  ships  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  filling  their  water-casks. 

It  is  said  that  these  settlers  had  built  a  meeting-house  befor(!  1()41,  and 
though  I  do  not  find  the  statement  verified  by  any  record,  it  is  known  that  the 
Itev.  Benjamin  Hull,  of  York,  sometimes  went  over  to  preach  at  the  islands  at 
about  this  time.  Rev.  Eichard  Gibson,  an  Episcopal  missionary,  is  also  found 
])reaching  to  the  islanders,  and  marrying  and  baptizing  them  according  to  the 
ordinances  of  the  Church  of  England,  no  later  than  the  year  1(542.  His  stay 
was,  however,  of  short  duration.     At  this  time  Massachusetts  claimed  jiirisdic- 


EARLY    FISIIINd-SIin*. 


TIIK    ISI.KS   OK    SHOALS. 


;w 


KIHUKUMAN. 


tioii  ()V«'r  the  iHlaiids.^  In  an  t'vil  hour,  (Jibson,  who  was  a  Ciorges  man,  stirred 
ii[i  the  ishindcrs  to  revolt;  hut  he  laid  reckoned  without  his  host  here,  tor  the 
news  no  sooner  reached  iJo.ston  than  an  otticer  was  (h'spatched  to  take  (}iV)son 
into  custody.  His  wliiU)ni  followers,  if  he  had  any  such, 
seem  to  have  left  him  to  shift  for  himself,  which  nu-ant,  in 
his  case,  a  loilj^inj;  in  IJoston  j,mo1  until  su<'h  time  as  lit; 
should  make  a  suHiciently  huiidilc  aixdogy  to  appease  his 
captors,  and  so  regain  his  liberty.  Il«!  was  then  told  to  leave 
the  country,  and  not  to  stand  on  the  order  of  his  going. 

What  ])rogress  the  islands  were  making  during  the  next 
few  years  becomes  a  matter  of  inference  rather  than  of  (.er- 
tiiinty.  They  were  attached,  in  KloL',  to  the  newly  (treated 
county  of  Yorkshire,  which  comi)rised  all  the  Maine  settle- 
ments to  which  ^Massachusetts  had  extended  her  govern- 
ment. The  next  year  we  find  them  granted  a  IoinU  court 
for  the  trial  of  petty  caiises,  with  a  constable  to  serve  writs, 
keep  order,  and  the  like,  but  denied  the  town  charter  they 
asked  for,  as  not  yet  being  in  a  capacity  to  carry  on  their 
own  affairs.  Six  years  later  they  put  in  another  jH'tition  to 
the  same  eff» ct,  and  with  the  sanu'  result. 

])y  1()()(),  however,  Stur,  Snuitty-Nose,  and  Appledore 
are  sujjjjosed  to  have  (contained  forty  families  —  possibly 
two  hundred  persons.  The  islanders  had  built  a  church,  and  were  nuiintaining 
a  minister.  They  therefore  now  obtained  the  long-desired  i)rivilege,  by  an  order 
of  1('»('»1.  constituting  them  the  township  of  Appledore. 

Anything  like  a  coherent  story  of  what  was  going  on  during  the  next  (pmr- 
ter-century  is  (piite  out  of  the  question.  It  was  a  rude  little  reimblic  in  which 
all  codes  were  reduced  to  their  simplest 
terms.  The  governing  power  would 
seem  to  have  forgotten  it,  the  islanders 
to  have  remembered  that  authority, 
when  an  exertion  of  it  was  the  only 
way  out  of  their  disputes.  There  could 
be  but  one  business  for  all  afloat  or 
ashore, — (hatching,  curing,  and  lumsing 
fish  gave  employment  to  the  whole 
pojiulation.  There  were  no  fields  to 
till  or  flocks  to  tend.  Probably  most 
of  the  work  of  handling  tish  was  done 
by  women,  as  it  is  in  Newfoundland 
to-day,  and  perhaps  the  Shoals  women  landing  fish,  oi.dkx  timk. 

were  just  as  ignorant,  coarse,  and  hard  featured.  If  so.  we  need  not  ask  what 
the  men  were  like,  or  why  a  peremptory  order  should  have  banished  women 
from  the  islands. 


i^ 


IP 

I  t 


36 


THE   riNK-TREE   COAST. 


imVIX(J-KI,AKE. 


Thick  fog  shuts  down  over  the  islands  during  the  decade  next  after  their 
incorporation.  When  it  lifts,  we  find  that  most  of  the  Appledore  settlers  have 
gone  over  to  Star.     Just  at  what  time,  or  for  what  reason,  this  removal  took 

place,     does     not    clearly    appear, 
though  we   think  the   better  land- 
ing on  Star  may  have   had  some- 
thing to  do  with  it.     It  is  usually- 
referred  to  fear  of  the  Indians ;  but 
except    that    Star    Island    is    the 
smaller  of   the    two,   we    find   no 
capacity  for  defence  in  it  not  pos- 
sessed by  Appledore.     Moreover,  the  Indians  of  Maine  Avere  never  banded  in 
hostility  to  the  whites  until  Philip's  War  broke  out  in  1075,  or  five  years  after 
the  removal  came  about.     So  the  moving  cause  is  not  yet  found. 

The  dispersion  operated,  however,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  islanders,  because 
they  were  now  politically  divided  between  two  colonies  and  two  counties. 
Smutty-Nose  and  Apjdcdore  therefore  prayed  to  be  joined  to  the  same  county 
witli  Star,  which,  from  this  time  for- 
ward, became  the  seat  of  government,^ 
though  it  was  not  until  171a  that  town 
privileges  we)"e  newly  conferred  upon 
the  settlers  of  Star  under  the  name  of 
Gosport. 

As  remote  as  these  islands  seem  from 
such  dangers,  their  iniiabitants  were 
kept  in  continual  alarm  throughout  the  terrible  years  1<57()  and  1077 ;  and  though 
no  actual  assaiilt  up(m  them  is  mentioned,  the  traditions  of  Star  Island  atlirm 
not  only  that  the  invading  savages  did  land  on  that  island,  Imt  tlicy  assert  — 
and  the  hiding-place  is  still  jjointed  out —  that  the  women  and  children  were 

forced  to  conceal  themselves  among  the  holes  and 
caverns  about  the  shore,  lictty  ^Moody's  Ht)le  tlius 
has  a  tragic  interest  for  visitors. 

Sor:ie  tinu^  after  their  removal  to  Star,  the 
islanders  built  a  new  meeting-house,  with  a.  bell. 
Their  first  pastor  here  was  the  lU'v.  .Joshua  bloody, 
of  Salisbury,  ^Massachusetts,  who  continued  to 
preach  the  gosjjel,  though  without  regular  ordina- 
tion over  them,  from  al)out  the  year  1707  until 
1730,  when  his  mantle  fell  upon  the  Itev.  John 
Tucke. 

Here  begins  the  first  orderly  account  we  have  of  the  islands.  A  book  of 
records  was  begun  in  1731,  in  which  the  first  entry  made  is  a  notice  to  the 
qualified  voters  to  meet  at  the  house  of  Captain  Robert  Downes  iov  the  purpose 
of  extending  a  call  to  the  liev.  John  Tucke  to  be  their  minister.     Singularly, 


WASIIINd    FISH. 


(  AinniNii 


ISM. 


THE   ISLES   OF   SHOALS. 


37 


enough,  we  owe  the   first  authoritative  anuouu;     aent  tliat  tlie  islands  were 
peopU'd  at  all  to  the  llev.  ~Slr.  Hull's  missionary  labors,  so  long  before. 

This  act  of  establishing  a  minister  permanently  among  them  probably  came 
none  too  soon,  and  it  marks 
a  new  era  in  the  hist(»ry  of 
the  Slioals.  From  far  and 
near  the  clergy  united  to 
make  the  ordination  an  oc- 
casion of  unusual  solem- 
nity, as  indeed  all  felt  it  to 
be.  Air.  Fitch,  of  i'orts- 
mouth,  preached  the  ser- 
mon. Samuel  Moody,  ot 
^'(uk.  a  man  of  sonorous 
texts,  (piick  to  grasp  a  for- 
cil)le  illustration,  said  in  liis 
prayer,  "Good  Tiord,  tJK.u 
hast  founded  thy  church 
here  upon  a  rock  :  may  tlic 
gates  of  hell  never  prevail 
against  it." 

Certain  extracts  from 
the  records  serve  to  show 
the  state  of  education  jtre- 
vailing  among  the  islanders,  whose  forefathers  had  perhaps  no  other  books  than 
tlie  score  and  tally,  — the  best  of  them  indeed  being  scarce  able  to  write  or  spell 
in  a  legible  hand. 

Each  man  agreed  to  give  one  quintal  of  merchantable  fish  toward  the 
minister's  salary.  His  cow  was  exempted,  by  popular  vote,  from  the  rule 
ordering  all  cows  off  the  island,  or  kept  from  running  at  huge,  by  a  given  date. 
lUit  we  do  confess  ourselves  a  bit  staggered  by  the  vote  granting  Mr.  Tucke 
ground  for  a  garden-jdot.  It  stands  recorded  in  "a  janarel  free  voot  past  tliat 
every  fall  of  the  year  when  mr  Run"'  John  Tuck  has  his  wood  to  carray  horn 
evary  men  will  not  com  that  is  abel  to  com  shall  pay  forty  shillings  ould 
tenor." 

That  it  was  easier,  even  so  long  ago,  to  vote  the  minister's  salary  than  pay 
it  is  made  plain  by  the  onh'r  direc^ting  Captain  Henry  Cartter  and  Air.  Kiciiard 
Talphy  "to  oner  hoal  the  Counstabels  for  the  money  that  is  behind  hand 
minstires  saillary."  And  again  when  the  good  old  man  had"  laid  down  his 
unfruitful  charge  forever,  a  town-meeting  is  called  to  take  ac^tion  '•  concerning 
the  Kevrent  John  Tucke's  salluary  deceased." 

This  fine  old  Christian  gentleman,  whose  pastoral  charge  somewhat  exceeded 
twoscore  years,  seems  to  have  held  his  rude  ])arishioners  within  the  bonds  of  a 
wholesome  restraint,  quite  as  much  by  the  example  of  a  pure  Christian  life,  a 


DIKK,    STAU    ISLAND. 


«;    I 


:ii«i 


I ;     X  >  III 


ii 


38 


THE   PINK-TRKE   COAST. 


i 


.!l 


patriarchal  simplicity  of  manners,  and  a  studied  devotion  to  the  every-day 
wants  or  interests  of  the  humblest  among  them,  as  by  his  preaching.  He  had 
been  long  in  making  up  his  mind  to  accept  the  call  to  be  their  minister,  while 
serving  them  as  a  missionary ;  but  he  seems  at  length  to  have  felt  that  he 
could  nowhere  do  so  grateful  a  service  to  the  cause  of  the  Master  as  by  dedi- 
cating himself  to  the  work  of  weeding  out  the  seeds  of  degradation  and  vice 
sowed  broadcast  by  habitual  association  with  pirates,  smugglers,  and  the 
scum  of  foreign  jjorts.  While  John  Tucke  stood  at  his  post  of  dut}',  we  hear 
less  and  less  of  these  debasing  influences.  In  him  the  islanders  lost  their  best 
friend. 

There  is  much  vague  allusion  to  the  wealth  and  prosperity  of  the  islands  at 
various  periods,  which  we  hud  it  hard  to  conflrm ;  but  stranger  still  is  the 
assertion  that  "  gentlemen  from  some  of  the  principal  towns  on  the  seacoast 
sent  their  sons  here  for  literary  instruction,"  though  Mr.  Tucke's  reputation  as 
"  an  apt  teacher  of  youth  "  may  have  brought  him  some  few  pupils  from  the 
mainland.  With  a  single  exception,  the  annals  of  the  Shoals  do  not  furnish 
one  instance  of  a  |)erson  of  native  birth  who  has  won  eminence  in  any  direction, 
or  who  has  left  his  impress  on  the  time  he  lived  in.  Leaving  out  the  ministers, 
the  most  considerable  personage  whom  we  may  thus  distingiush  from  the 
unknown  rank  and  tile  —  and  small  things  become  great  in  the  history  of  these 
islands  —  is  Sanuiel  Haley,  who  lived,  died,  and  is  buried  on  Snnitty-Xose,  and 
who,  while  he  lived,  seems  to  have  put  much  energetic  purpose  into  bringing 
the  islands  up  abreast  of  the  times ;  for  until  he  came  to  them  the  magical  W(n'd 
"  progress "  had  never  been  known  to  the  island  vocabulary.  Samuel  Haley 
set  himself  about  introducing  it.  The  harbor  was  notoriously  unsafe,  the  land- 
ing scarcely  practicable  in  rough  weather.  By  l)uilding  a  mole  across  the 
ledge  joining  Snmtty-Xose  with  ]\[alaga.  a  small,  but  well-sheltered  Ijasin  was 
enclosed,  and  nuiny  lives  and  nuudi  projjcrty  eventuidly  saved  by  its  means. 
Mr.  Haley  also  built  a  dock,  a  Avindmill,  a  brew-house,  a  rope-walk,  a,  distillery, 
and  salt  works,  — all  objects  of  high  utility  to  the  islands  ;  but  the  stagnation 
that  fell  upon  them  soon  after  swept  away  his  property  with  the  rest.  Haley's 
ohl  wiiulniill  was  long  one  of  the  best-known  sea-marks  to  the  pilots  of  his  (hiy. 
We  could  almost  call  down  the  old  Jewish  curse  ujiou  him  who  removed  this 
one  picturesque  feature  from  the  bare  face  of  the  islands. 

War  with  England,  horrid  war,  brought  Avith  it  destruc!tion  to  the  islanders, 
many  of  whom  openly  favored  the  royal  cause ;  while  others,  from  motives  of 
.self-interest,  pretended  to  a  sort  of  neutrality  toward  the  belligerents.  Their 
situation  was  peculiar.  Either  they  could  sell  their  tish,  goats,  and  swine  to 
the  king's  ships,  for  broad  gold  piec^es,  or  they  could  refuse  to  sell  and  have 
their  property  taken  from  them  by  force.  They  could  expect  no  help  from  the 
nuiiuland,  and  they  were  powerless  to  defend  themselves.  Political  ties  had 
always  sat  lightly  u])on  them.  They  had  lived  so  long  outside  of  all  the  cur- 
rents of  ])0])ular  excitement  or  thought  as  hardly  to  identify  themselves  with 
what  was  going  on  in  the  great  world  about  them.      Like  half-baked  pottery, 


I 


■  f; 

1=   si 


'I 


THE   ISLES   OF   SHOALS. 


41 


they  were  not  exactly  useless  vessels,  nor  yet  quite  hardened  to  the   purposes 
for  which  they  were  fashioned. 

But  with  their  commerce  and  markets  cut  off  the  Shoals  steadily  declined. 
A  great  many  left  the  islands  never  to  return.  Preaching  Avas  given  up ;  town- 
meetin_i,'s  followed  suit.  A  state  of  apathetic  in- 
tlolcnre  fell  upon  the  islanders,  who  appear  to  have 
iorgotten  the  world,  and  whom  the  world  seems  to 
lave  forgotten,  until  the  condition  of  poverty  and 
degradation  into  which  those  who  remained  had 
lapsed  l)e(;ame  a  matter  of  public  scandal.  Their 
reformation  was  then  undertaken  as  we  would 
now  undertake  missionary  work. 

A  deplorable  state  of  things  revealed  itself.  In  '{ 
some  drunken  orgie  the  Shoalsmen  had  burned 
ther  meeting-house  to  the  ground.  Then,  for  want  time  at  a  stanhstim.. 
of  t  guiding  hand,  the  always  loosely  bound  society  had  fallen  into  the  worst 
depths  of  immoralit}-.  Men  and  women  were  found  living  together,  with  chil- 
dren born  to  them  outside  of  wedhx^k.  A  new  generation  was  growing  up  like 
the  veeds  among  their  rocks,  who  perhaps  had  never  heard  the  name  of  (tocI 
spoken  except  to  blaspheme  with,  or  known  any  ditference  between  cue  day  of 
the  Aveek  and  another.  Many  had  forgotten  their  own  ages,  for  want  of  any 
re(!()rr  in  town  or  clumih ;  and  very  few  (!ould  either  read  m-  write.  That  siu-h 
things  coidd  happen  in  a  Christian  land  is.  indeed  hard  to  believe ;  but  it  is 
all  true. 

The  work  of  reform  naturally  began  with  marrving  the  unmarried  parents, 
and  so  making  their  children  legitimate.  Preaching  Avas  resumed,  and  a  school 
started.  Pibles  and  testaments  were  distributed  as  in  Congo  to-day.  A  new 
church  vas  begun,  with  money  contributed  by  the  coast  towns,  was  completed 
in  Octolier,  and  dedicated  in  November,  1800, 
by  the  Kev.  Jedediah  INIorse,  D.D.  This  house 
was  gutted  by  fire  January  2, 1826,  was  rebuilt 
and  newlji  dedicated  in  18,'iO,  and  now  stands 
solitary  anl  alone  of  ail  the  ancient  village  of 
Gosport,  a  monument  to  this  "  strange,  event- 
ful history.'' 

It  is  strange  that  the  Shoals  should  be 
eventually  tnnsformed  into  a  Avatering-place 
through  the  agency  of  a  self-constituted  recluse 
— :;•  a  man  who  had  renounced  all  society  to  take 
up  his  abode  on  a  desolate  rock  in  the  ocean.  That  the  purpose  might  be 
still  more  binding,  it  is  said  he  made  a  vow  never  to  step  foot  on  the  mainland 
again.  Going  to  live  at  the  islands  at  all  was  indeed  locking  the  door  against 
the  world,  but  gcing  there  as  keeper  of  the  lonely  lighthouse  was  actually 
throwing  away  the  key. 


STONK    CIiriiriT,     STAIl    ISI.AXn. 


ill 

I  fa 


42 


TIIK   PINE-TKEK   COAST. 


After  some  years'  service  as  light-keeper  Mr.  Laightou  moved  over  to  Api)le- 
dore,  where  he  built  himself  a  house  in  the  shallow  valley  that  cuts  across  the 
island  from  behind  the  cove.  Appledore  was  then  without  inhabitants.  This 
vicinity  had  been  occupied,  however,  in  the  early  history  of  the  island,  on 
account  of  its  sheltered  situation  in  winter,  and  for  the  advantage  of  its  land- 
ing. Urged  by  curiosity,  a  few  visitors  dropped  in.  Mr.  Laighton  was  asked 
to  take  a  few  summer  boarders,  turned  the  matter  over  in  his  mind,  saw  that  it 
was  better  than  leading  a  hermit's  life,  which  by  this  time  he  found  to  have  its 
objections,  and  finally  acted  upon  the  suggestion.  Strange  to  say,  the  would-be 
hermit  not  only  became  a  landlord  himself,  but  the  father  of  landlords  as  wel. 

Mr.  Laighton  also  built  the  house  near  the  hotel,  so  well  known  as  the 
Thaxter  cottage,  in  which  Mr.  HaAvthorne  tells  us  that  he  drank  ajjple-toddy, 
and  where  so  many  distinguished  guests  have  since  been  entertained. 

Before  Mr.  Laighton  built  on  Appledore  the  island  was  said  to  be  haunted 
by  the  spectre  of  the  ancient  constable  of  the  isles, — Phillip  Babb*  by  name, — 
who  lived,  died,  and  was  buried,  tradition  says,  at  or  near  the  spot  on  wlich 
the  hotel  now  stands.  To  make  the  story  more  interesting,  "  Old  Babb  "  was 
said  to  have  been  a  pirate.  Some  even  avouched  to  having  seen  the  apparition 
itself.  Fear,  therefore,  kept  the  islanders  from  setting  foot  on  Appledore  ifter 
dark,  till  Mr.  Laighton  effectually  laid  the  ghost  by  building  over  the  restless 
constable's  l)ones. 

Meantime  the  enterprise  shown  on  Appledore  quickly  communicated  itself 
to  poor,  run-down  Gosport,  first  by  the  opening  of  one  modest  public  house, 
then  of  a  second,  and  finally  of  a  monster  hotel  called  the  Oceanic,  for  which  an 
eligible  site  was  only  found  by  pulling  down  many  of  the  fishermen's  cabins 
then  standing  along  the  harbor  front.  The  projectors  of  this  scheme,  of  whom 
Mr.  John  R.  Poor  and  Mr.  Nathan  Mathes  were  the  head,  first  acquired  a  title 
to  the  whole  island.  The  Oceanic  was  opened  to  the  public  for  the  season  of 
1873."  Thus,  by  the  so-called  hand  of  improvement,  was  the  ancient  village  of 
Gosport  swept  off  the  face  of  the  island  to  which,  like  some  lonely  sea-l)ird,  it 
had  clung  with  precarious  hold  for  more  than  two  hundred  years.  In  all  New 
England  we  do  not  recall  a  similiar  instance  of  a  whole  village  being  improved 
out  of  existence.  That  is  why  we  have  been  at  some  trouble  to  restore  its 
history. 


1  First  called  Hog  Island  in  an  order  of  1047  directing  John  Reynolds  to  ramove  his  swine 
from  that  island. 

2  New  Hampshire,  1041,  had  formed  a  political  union  with  Massachusetcs.  In  ten  years 
the  chiefs  of  this  colony  put  forward  a  claim  t(5  the  whole  of  Maine  as  far  as  Casco  Bay. 

'  There  was  no  government  at  all  from  1079  to  1085,  or  next  to  none,  as  the  king  had 
dissolved  the  union,  just  referred  to  in  Note  2,  when  New  Hampshire  entered  upon  a  period 
of  almost  anarchy. 

*  It  is  a  thousand  pities  to  spoil  a  good  ghost  story  ;  but  that  afflrining  "  Old  Babb"  to 
have  been  one  of  Kidd's  men,  whose  shipmates  murdered  him  that  his  ghost  might  guaixl 


TIIK    ISLES   OF   SHOALS. 


4.'} 


their  hidden  treasure,  lacks,  I  regret  to  say,  oven  that  semblance  of  probability  which  is  indis- 
pensable to  all  such  tales.     Phillip  Habb  was  old  enough  to  have  been  Kidd's  grandfather. 

s  The  rivalry  thus  established  between  Star  and  Appledore  was  not  of  long  contnuuuice. 
After  suffering  the  loss  of  their  tine  hotel  by  tire,  the  proprietors  of  Star  Island  built  another, 
with  the  same  name ;  but  this  they  at  length  sold  out  to  the  Laighton  Brothers,  wlio  have 
thus  acquired  all  the  hotel  property  of  the  islaiuLs.  These  gentlemen  were  (juietly  resting  in 
the  huppo.sed  goodness  of  their  title  to  Appledore,  when  the  State  of  .Maine  publicly  invited 
tenders  for  the  purchase  of  all  the  islands  originally  belonging  to  her,  of  which  Appledore 
was  one,  on  the  ground  that  they  had  never  been  granted  away  under  province  or  state.  In 
the  meantime,  however,  actual  settlers  had  been  buying  and  selling  their  homesteads  for  two 
centuries  and  a  half  without  having  their  titles  ciuestioned.  Upon  investigation  Smul  ty-\(ise 
was  found  to  have  been  granted  by  Mas.sachusetts  to  Mr.  Sanmel  Haley  in  consideration  of 
building  a  sea-wall  and  dock  at  that  island.  The  assumed  rights  of  Maine  to  the  otheis  were 
purchased  by  the  Laightons,  who  are  now  sole  lords  of  the  Isles. 


CAMP-STOOL,  OR  TaOLE. 


ARULXU    AliAMENTICnS, 


CHAPTER   III. 


A    KAMBLE    IX    OLD    YORK. 


"  I  will  talk  with  ynu,  walk  with  you."  —  Merchant  <>f  Venice. 

I  HAVE  come  back  to  Kittery  in  (trder  to  get  to  York  Harbor. 
Though,  in  sooth,  she  have  a  hundred  harbors,  .Maine  has  not  one  really 
good  one  for  sixty  miles,  as  the  (^oast  runs;  that  is  to  say,  from  Kittery  to  I'ort- 
land.  It  is  true  that  two  or  three  short  tidal  rivers  afford  indifferent  harbors ; 
but  they  are  at  all  times  difficult  of  access,  and  in  bad  weather  are  rather  to  be 
shunned  than  run  for  by  strangers. 

It  follows  that  for  want  of  commerce  or  ports,  this  part  of  the  coast  is 
deserted  by  all  shipping  save  a  few  lazy  coasters,  which  creep  in  and  out  of  the 
<-ra('ks  in  the  sh(n't\  but  never  put  to  sea  so  long  as  there  is  a  cloud  in  the  sky. 
In  fact,  your  coasting  captain  is  notoriously  the  most  timid  of  mortals. 

The  natural  features  of  this  strip  of  coast  are  long  stretches  of  sand  between 
jutting  promontories  of  granite, — at  the  numtlis  of  the  river  marshes,  in  the 
areas  of  low-ground  swamps,  against  which  the  sea  has  piled  up  the  beaches. 
U 


III 


■ 


A    KAMULE    IN   OLD    YORK. 


45 


As  if  to  retrieve  her  mistakes  here,  uature  has  set  up  at  one  end  of  this 
coast  a  most  eomniiuidiug  hmdmark.  This  is  Mount  Agamentieus,'  tlie  extreme 
outpost  of  the  great  White  Mountains.  No  saih)r  can  mistake  it  for  any  other 
hind.  It  stands  up  solitiiry  and  ah)ne,  —  a  dome  of  green  set  on  a  hnv  undulat- 
ing base,  —  the  natural  landfall  and  guide  to  one  of  the  best  harbors  in  our 
■waters,  and,  as  we  have  said,  the  only  one  for  many  leagues  up  and  down  the 
coast.  Agamenticus  is  therefore  no  accidental  freak  of  nature,  as  it  would  be 
if  })laced  in  some  dangerous  or  inaccessible  spot. 

Then  again,  Agamenticus  River,  next  the  sea,  had  been  from  a  remote  period 
a  principal  habitation  of  the  natives,  until  the  plague  came  among  them  and 
swept  them  away  like  moths  before  a  consuming  ttanie.  There  is  a  touch  of 
irony  in  the  plea  put  forth  at  this  time,  that  God  destroyed  these  barbarians  in 


^^^iJ^^^ 


UEMAKKAU'^K    HOWLUEU. 


^  order  to  make  room  for  the  white  peo- 

"jj  l)le  to  come  in   and  enjoy   whiit  h;id 

..  Jj'H  been  merely  made  ready  to  their  hnnds. 

i>'  /'■]  The   doctrine  of  the   survival  of    tlir 

"  fittest   is   therefore   neither    new    nor 

novel  in  our  history. 

I  have  always  thought  that  these 


i 


•  ii 


1i 


II  is 


m 


i 


!  ■!■  ■• 


¥\\ 


46 


THK    I'INK-TKKK    COAST. 


ponsidorations  had   much  to  do  with  Sir  Ferdiiiando  Gorfj^os'  choice  of  Aj?ii- 
nienticus  as  the  metropolis  of  his  [jroviuce. 

Mount  Agamenticus  thus  stands  a  perpetual  monument  to  the  barbarians 
over  whose  villages  the  destroying  angel  passed  and  h'ft  a  desert.  Not  even 
the  mandate  of  a  prince  of  the  Wood  *  could  deprive  them  of  this  distinction. 
In  this  resi»ect  they  certainly  have  the  advantage  of  (iorges,  who  has  no  monu- 
ment either  in  Old  or  New  England,  except  an  insigniticant  fort  in  Portland 
Harbor.     Consecjuences  are  thus  not  oidy  unpitying,  but  sometimes  grotescpie. 

Yet  it  does  seem  as  if  York,  of  all  places,  ought  to  commemorate  the  name 
of  Gorges,  that  dark  and  scheming  politician  of  two  eventful  reigns. 

A  strange  fatality  seems  to  have  pursued  the  illustrious  personages  who  took 
an  .active  part  in  coloniziiig  New  England,  while  success  was  reserved  to  men 
of  more  humble  origin.  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert  perished  by  shipwreck;  Kalcigh, 
by  the  headsman ;  Soutliamptcm  was  jmt  in  the  Tower ;  I'opham  died  Avhile  his 
colony  was  on  the  sea ;  and  Gorges  lived  only  to  see  all  his  cherished  i)rojects 
crumble  to  dust. 

A  chapter  might  be  written  to  be  entitled  "  The  Singularities  of  Sir  Ferdi- 
nando  Gorges,  Knight."'  He  drew  his  descent  from  an  old  Norman  family,  and 
was  the  kinsman  of  Kaleigh,  whose  example  seems  to  have  struck  deep  root  in 
the  minds  of  all  the  adventurous  spirits  around  him.  No  record  of  his  birth  or 
education  is  found:  no  tomb  is  raised  to  his  memory.  The  leading  events  in 
his  life  may  be  briefly  summed  up:  A  soldier  with  Leicester 
in  Holland,  and  with  Henry  IV.  in  France;  follower  of  p]ssex 
in  power,  siding  with  Essex  in  his  jilot  against  the  <jueen, 
yet  throwing  his  patron  over  to  save  himself;  foremost 
patron  of  colonization  ;  unregarded  Royalist  in  the  civil 
wars  ;  man  of  great  i)atience,  persistency,  and  astuteness, 
coujiled,  we  suspect,  with  a  cold  and  selfish  nature;  in 
short,  a  man  whom  we  can  and  do  admire  for  his  good 
qualities,  but  cannot  bring  ourselves  to  like  in  spite  of  his 
bad  ones,  as  we  do  Kaleigh. 

Gorges  had  passed  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in  camps 
before  the  accession  of  James.  That  event  sheathed  every 
sword  in  England  ;  for  James,  abandoning  the  warlike  policy 
of  Elizabeth,  hastened  to  patch  up  a  pt^ace  with  "  the  ptu*- 
fidious  Spaniard,"  in  defiance  of  that  national  feeling  which 
had  become  part  and  parcel  of  every  Protestant  English- 
nuin's  religion. 

Thus  an  unpopular  peace,  which  threw  out  of  employ- 
ment all  the  roving  and  adventurous  spirits  who  had  fol- 
lowed the  wars,  —  it  is  Gorges  himself  who  tells  us  this,  —  was  the  direct  cause 
of  a  revival  of  public  interest  in  discovery  and  colonization ;  so  that  indirectly 
the  pusillanimity  of  James  gave  rise  to  the  settlements  in  Virginia  and  New 
England. 


"  Y''-    I'ERFVDIOITS 
PI'AINYAIM)." 


^ 


A    HAMIU.K    IN   OLD   YORK. 


I! 


Having  scannod  the  historic;  horizon  beforehand,  we  are  the  better  pre- 
pared to  take  note  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  successive  waves  of  enufi;ratioii  upon 
these  rock-bound  shores,  where  so  numy  fair  hopes  have  founilered  lirst  and 
last. 

York  is  approadied  over  a  rough  road  skirting  the  coast,  by  a  short  cut 
across  the  hills  from  Spruc"  Creek,  or  by  the  branch  railway  from  Tortsmouth. 
It  exhibits  two  quite  distinct  i>hases  of  growth,  one  of  \vhi(di  is  normal,  and 
one  grafted  on  the  (dd  root.  Man,  and  not  Trovidence,  has  thus  joined  them 
together,  and  with  every  year  the  fruit  and  foliage  of  the  new  growth  is  fast 
<lisguising  the  original  Ha- 
vor  and  chara(!ter  of  the 
panMit  tree. 

Old  York,  the  country 
village,  stretches  itself  out 
along  the  river  banks,  while 
modern  York,  a  new  plant 
in  a  strange  soil,  skirts  the 
bluffs  and  beaches  of  the 
st^ashore.  Old  York  was 
lociited  with  reference  to 
the  serious  business  of  life; 
recent  York,  with  regard 
to  its  idle  jileasures  only. 
Two  constituents  have  thus 
come  in  contact,  so  com- 
pletely antagonistic  in 
their  outward  and  inward 
aspects,  that,  like  the  an- 
cient auguries,  they  can 
scarcely  confront  each 
other  without  laughing, 
lint  it  is  only  a  marriage 
of  convenieiure.  Perhaps 
the  strangest  thing  about 
it  all  is  that  the  transient 
population  has  come  to  save  the  permanent  from  the  wasting  ])rocess  which 
was  at  work  at  the  root  of  its  life. 

I  first  went  to  the  village,  and  looked  about  me  there  a  little.  On  the 
whole,  it  shows  less  change  than  one  might  expect.  Here  are  the  old  (diurch 
and  cemetervi  the  court-house,  and  (pieer  old  barrack  of  a  jail.  The  church  has, 
however,  made  a  change  of  front;  and  now  stands  facing  on  the  street,  instead 
of  turning  its  side  toward  it  as  formerly,  besides  undergoing  very  considerable 
alterations  both  inside  and  out.  These  had  hardly  been  comi)leted  when  the 
church  was  struck  by  lightning, — an  event  which  the  older  people  were  disposed 


OI.I)    MKETIN(i-IlorSK. 


1   V 


48 


TIIK    I'INK-TRKE   COAST. 


to  look  upon  iis  a  judRUiont  sent  u])on  tlioso  who  sacrilc^jfionsly  remove  the 
unuient  hintlnuiik. 

It  so  fell  out  that  in  turning?  the  church  around,  the  old  corner-stone,  with  its 
date  of  1747,  attesting  to  the  age  of  the  structure,  was  left  outside  the  new 
foundation,  where  it  now  remains,  which  is  certainly  a  very  curious  place  to 
fii'd  a  corner-stftne  m. 

The  tall  and  shiipely  spire  of  this  ancient  house  of  worship  is  a  consiticuous 
object  for  miles  around. 

"  M)  wi-atliercock  on  the  village  spire, 
Willi  your  f^oldi-ii  featliers  all  on  tiif  ! 
Tell  1110  what  can  you  st'i-  from  your  ])t'irh 
Above  tliiTi'  on  the  tower  of  the  chuivli '.' ' 

"  '  I  can  see  the  roofs  and  the  streets  below. 

And  the  people  moving  to  and  fro,  • 

And  beyond,  without  either  roof  or  street, 
The  great  salt  sea,  and  the  fishenniiii's  Heel.'  '" 

What  was  no  doubt  the  first  house  of  worship  in  York  stood  at  "  tlu;  easterly 
side  of  the  old  mad  leading  from  York  village  to  the  Short  Sands,  a  few  rods 

from  the  road  and  near  the 


fo\ 


^'' 


sea."  So  far  as  I  was  able 
to  ascertain,  no  vestige  of  it 
now  remains. 

In  spite  of  the  distinction 
with  which  history  invests  it, 
^  there  are  few  si)ots  of  ground 


OLD   CORNER-STONE. 


in  New  England,  I  think,  in 
which  the  old  traditions  have 
been  suffered  to  die  out  as 
they  have  here  in  York. 
The  endeavor  to  recover  any 
tangible  traces  of  the  Lilii)utian  city  of  Gorgeana,  with  its  twenty-one  sipuire 
miles,  and  its  twenty  or  thirty  houses,  must  be  equally  uniirodiictive.  It  is 
true  that  most  of  tlu^  orig'  '  *'amilies  have  disai)peared.  Jiut  all  that  even 
the  best  informed  per.son  /  of  the  past  is,  that  if  such  or  such  a  person 

were  alive,  perhaps  '  ;  could  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know.     Why 

anybody  should  wai  .now  about  what  haitpened  before  they  were  born  is  a 

mystery  they  do  not  attempt  to  fathom.     They  look  volumes,  but  speak  none. 

The  reply  contains  at  least  a  suggestion.  You  at  once  go  away  among  the 
gravestones.  There  is  less  change  here.  lint  there  are,  unfortunately,  no  very 
old  stones  remaining.  There  are,  however,  some  long  pompous  inscriptions  to 
a  later  generation.     We  are  therefore  driven  back  upon  our  books  again. 

It  seems  that  some  of  the  first  settlers  of  York  had  come  out  of  Bristol,  in 
Old  England,  that  seaport  of  renown,  "  standing  commodiously  for  the  western 
world."     These  colonists,  therefore,  decided  to  take  the  name  of  Bristol*  for 


ip  !i 


A    HAMHLK    IN   OLD   YORK. 


4? 


a 


Ihe 
to 


in 
I'm 
for 


iiaMiiJc^ ' ' 


A    COnXKn    OF    old    lUHVINr.-flllOIND. 


their  plivntutioii.  As  yet  they  were  only  tninsiilanted  Englishnion ;  as  yot 
England  was  their  native  land.  80  it  is  primarily  to  their  sentinitMital  attanh- 
nuMit  tor  the  plaiH'  they  coiitinned  to  rail  huiiic  that  we  owe  all  those  names 
whirh  the  late  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  found  so  meaningless. 

One  or  the  other  name,  ■j'*-'-"-^- 

AgainenticuH  or  Bristol, 
continued  in  iise  until 
superseded  by  that  of 
Gorgeana/'  under  the  city 
charter  of  Id-iU. 

As  touching  the  life  of 
the  people  at  this  early 
time,  we  have  no  other 
resource  than  the  public  * 
records  afford,  and  these 
have  preserved  for  us  only 

the  annals  of  crime.  There  were  no  diarists  like  liradford  or  Winthrop  in  this 
province  to  jot  down  every  little  passing  event,  every  scrap  of  current  gcjssip. 
It  would  be  just  as  uufair,  then,  to  spread  out  the  criminal  indendar  and  (tall  it 
the  history  of  the  people  of  York,  as  to  take  the  Xewgate  Calendar  and  decdani 
it  to  be  the  history  of  the  peoi)le  of  England.  True  history  is  not  written  in 
this  way,  though  some  writers  seem  to  think  so. 

It  is  true  that  the  dark  side  of  life  atfords  more  or  less  insight  into  the  beliefs 
and  customs  of  the  people.  Thus  we  find  that  Goody  Cornish,  who  was  exe- 
cuted in  the  year  KU;")  at  York,  was  the  first  person  to  suffer  the  death  penalty 
in  Maine,  upon  presumptive  or  circumstantial  proof  only.  The  woman  had 
murdered  her  husband.  What  seemed  to  have  told  most  strongly  against  her 
at  the  trial  was  the  bleeding  of  the  dead  body  whenever  she  came  near  it. 
Another  wonum  was  sentenced  to  stand  in  the  congregation  "on  two  several 
Sabbath  days,"  wrapp(>d  in  a  winding-sheet,  for  committing  adultery.  Such 
offences  as  "light  carriage,"  uncivil  s])eeches,  or  profane  swearing  were  punished 

by  tines,  imprisonment,  or  stripes ;  but 
there  was  another  class  of  offences,  such 
as  scolding,  idleness,  and  tale-bearing,  of 
which  the  law  now  refuses  to  take  cog- 
nizance, but  for  which  those  sober  citizens 
found  the  ducking-siool  a  most  efficacious 
remedy. 

Two  actions   are  upon   record,  in   one 

of   \vhich  the   plaintiff   prays   to   recover 

damages  against  a  woman  for  saying  that  "  she  looked  upon  Mr.  Godfrey  as  a 

dissembling  man " ;   in  the  other,  for  calling  Mrs.  Godfrey  in  plain  English 

a  liar.     Strong  language  to  use  toward  the  governor  and  his  wife  ! 

Whether  the  following  order  is  still  in  force  or  not,  it  will  tend  to  show 


DUCKING-STOOL. 


1l(i 


m 


no 


TUK    riNK- THICK    COAS'I'. 


liow  woman  Avas  regarded  in  those  jiriinitive  days  when  society'  was  forming 
itself  upon  the  ohl  Englisli  models  ;  ••  ( >rder(Ml,  tliat  any  woman  who  may  ahnse 
her  husband  hy  opproljrious  language  shall  be  j)ut  in  the  stocks  two  hours,  and 
if  incorrigible  may  Im-  ai'terwards  whip](cd."  IJy  these  few  extracts  it  will  be 
seen  tliat  the  so-called  I'due  Laws  were  l>y  no  means  contiiied  to  the  I'uritau 
colonies,  as  is  so  generally  supiujsed,  and  that  tlie  Maine  colonists  had  a  way  of 
making  laws  to  lit  the  offence  as  well  as  their  neighl)ors. 

It  is  a  matter  for  regri't  that  we  should  be  (juite  in  the  dark  as  to  how 
these  people  set  u])  their  iirimitive  housekee])ing.  how  they  managed    their 


I     I 


-■■-'■    ■••■  ■  -      ■    -    -.i-  .r 


.ij;-^;*:*^;-^' 


:  .■         .  ■•_%.v^r^■•,s&'•~-^'-«'"■i5w^^ 


'V»j'*/^'.-fi' 


•-*.'*«*8(ilj 


'n-i^^ 


■  i'f- 


^!^'?«Asi\ 


SI  MMn     OK    Ai;  AMKNTK  I  S. 


eancerus  in 
general,  Avhat  ]ias- 
times  they  could 
safely  indulge  in 
withoi\t  iiunirring 
the  penalty  of  the 
law,  how  they  di- 
vided their  time  be- 
tween fishing  and 
farming,  what  they  sowed,  and  how  their  lirst  cr()])S  turned  out. 

Surely  eye  seldom  dwelt  on  a  lovelier  rural  landscape  than  the  one  spreading 
out  on  all  si(h's  of  the  village  t  chiy.  It  is  so  different  from  the  uncouth  rocks 
or  shaggy  forests  one  sees  (everywhere  about  the  IMaine  coast,  as  to  seem  even 
more  beautiful  than  it  is.  Still,  it  is  a  lovely  spot;  nor  can  we  wonder  at  the 
tenacity  with  which  three  generations  held  it  as  a  forlorn  hope  holds  out 
against  re])eate(l  onslaughts;  for  this  charnung  little  valh'y.  with  its  warm  and 
sunny  declivities,  was  certainly  worth  lighting  for.  The  first  comers  must  have 
thought  it  an  earthly  paradise.  And  the  youths  and  maidens  of  that  earl}'  time 
no  doubt  set  the  fashion  for  all  this  pliilandering  by  day  and  night  about  the 
beaches  uv  cliifs,  or  on  the  placid  bosom  of  the  gently  flowing  river. 


'  1i! 


H 


O 


o 
O 

fa 


o 


'i   J 


A    RAMBLE    IN   OLD    YORK. 


53 


Alas,  that  we  have  no  record  of  the  love-making  or  flirtations  of  that  most 
inteivsting  period !  Nowadays  it  is  different.  In  fact,  our  Avatering-places  so 
abound  in  adventures  of  this  sort  that  a  distinctive  literature  has  sprung  up  in 
consequence.  <  )r  is  it  a  sign  that  the  conventional  round  of  fashionable  city 
life  is  getting  somewhat  stale  t(j  tht^  literary  i)alat»>  ? 

The  truth  of  history  is  often  unpalatable.  Supersensitive  people  nuuntaiu 
that  it  should  not  be  told  at  all  times.  But  we  cannot  judge  history  as  we 
sometimes  do  peojde,  by  their  concealments.  What  ten  yeai's  of  intermittent 
effort  had  done  for  this  plantation  is  easily  guessed.  In  1(540,  after  obtaining 
his  royal  charter,  Sir  Ferdinando  sent  his  c(msin  Tliomas  over  sea  to  be  his 
deputy  on  the  spot.  Deputy  Gorges  found  that  the  settlers  had  stripped  their 
patron's  mansion-house "  of  everything  it  contained  exce])t  an  old  pot,  a  pair  of 
tongs,  and  a  brace  of  col>irons,  which  we  infer  were  not  worth  the  taking.  On 
looking  about  him  the  deputy  found  neither  law,  order,  nor  morality  prevailing, — 
a  state  of  things  not  much  to  be  wondered  at  when  it  is  known  that  the 
mini.ster  himself,  George  lUirdett,  not  only  set  his  i)arishioners  an  example  of 
unchaste  conduct,  but  easily  disttmced  them  in  the  number  and  shamelessness 
of  his  amours.  One  of  the  deputy's  first  a(!ts  was  to  ahiyt  off  this  gay  Lothario 
to  Kngland. 

Though  lu>  had  given  the  Puritan  ctdonists  some  countenance,  Sir  Ferdinando 
Gorges  had  no  love  for  them,  or  tliey  for  him.  When  he  died,  in  1(')47,  his 
province  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  two  factions,  either  of  whom  wouhl 
sooner  have  seen  anarchy  come  than  that  the  other  should  triumph.  IJoth  had 
made  their  ajtpeal  to  Massachusetts  for  rect)gnition  and  support.  The  astute 
Puritans,  however,  had  no  mind  to  pidl  other  men's  chestnuts  out  of  the  tire ; 
but  when  the  monarchy  fell,  as  it  soon  did,  they  saw  tlieir  opportunity  had 
come  for  intervention  of  another  sort,  and  so  in  Hii>2  ^lassacdiusetts  promptly 
asserted  her  right  of  domain  over  Gorges'  whole  province. 

All  the  complicated  machinery  that  Gorges  had  set  up  was  overturned  in  a 
moment.  All  the  outward  evidences  of  the  lord-i)roprietor's  chartered  rights 
were  obliterated  as  (piickly  by  forming  his  province  into  a  county  with  the 
nanit  of  Yorkshire,  and  by  reducing  his  metropolis  of  Gorgeana  to  the  rank  of 
a  town,  then  first  called  York. 

York  is  therefore  the  pivot  upon  which  the  history  of  Maine  turns  up  to 
this  epoch.  (Jorges  and  his  projects  had  now  gone  down  the  stream  of  time. 
The  epita])h  to  his  failures  is  written  by  his  own  hand.  It  is  also  a  confession. 
*'  Let  not  therefore  my  evil  fortunes  .  .  .  be  a  iliscouragement  to  any,"  he 
smlly  says,  "  seeing  there  are  so  many  precedents  <jf  the  hap])y  success  of  those 
who  are  their  own  masters  and  disposers  (if  their  own  affairs." 

York  has  also  its  deplorable  memories.  On  the  morning  of  the  ^th  of  Fel)- 
ruary,"  1002.  the  doomed  village  lay  locked  in  the  arms  of  winter.  Since  day- 
break it  had  been  snowing  heavily,  so  tliat  few  of  the  inhabitants  were  yet 
stirring  out  of  doors.    At  this  hour  nothing  could  be  heard  but  the  mutiled  roar 


§ 


)  ,p  j 


'IN 


54 


THE   PINE-TREE  COAST. 


of  the  sea  beating  against  the  ice-bound  coast,  or  of  the  wind  hurling  gusts  of 
snow  against  the  window-panes.     All  else  wore  its  usual  quiet. 

Suddenly  a  gunshot  broke  the  stillness.  At  that  sound  the  doomed  village 
awoke.  The  startleil  settlers  ran  to  their  doors  and  windows.  Tliey  saw  them- 
selves entrapped,  sui-rounded.     A  storm  of  bullets  drove  them  back.    They  next 

attem})ted  to  escape  by  their  back 
doors.  Death  met  them  at  the  thresh- 
old. On  all  sides  the  rattle  of 
musketry,  mingled  with  the  shrieks  of 
the  victims  and  yells  of  the  assailants, 
drowned  the  voices  of  nature,  —  moan- 
ing sea  and  roaring  storm.  The  vil- 
lage was  surrounded,  and  retreat  cut 
off. 

Under  cover  of  the  storm  three 
hundred  savages  had  crei)t  into  the 
village  like  famishing  Avolves  \ipon  a 
sheep-fold.  They  foiuid  no  watcdi  set 
or  alarm  given  when  they  silently  filed 
out  of  the  forest  into  the  open  fields, 
where  the  peaceful  homes  of  their 
victims  lay  in  fancncd  security  before 
them.  The  fresh  snow  deadened  their 
stealthy  footfall.  Not  even  a  dog 
barked.  Xot  a  settler  dreamed  that 
the  terrible  Abenakis  were  at  his  doors,  until  that  fatal  signal-gun  was  fired. 

Then  the  butchery  began.  The  savages  soon  burst  oi)eu  the  doors  with 
their  axes,  killing  and  scalping  all  whom  they  met.  As  fast  as  one  house  was 
carried,  and  its  inmates  slaughtei-ed,  the  assailants  first  ransacked  it  of  whatever 
they  fancied,  then  ripped  up  and  set  fire  to  the  beds,  and  after  securing  their 
boot}-,  rushed  off  in  pursuit  of  new  victims.  In  a  short  time  the  village  was  on 
fire  in  twenty  places. 

At  length  it  would  seem  jus  if  the  savages  themselves  grew  weary  of  the 
slaughter,  since  some  fourscore  persons  were  spared  the  tomahawk  and  knife. 
Among  these  hajiless  captives  were  many  aged  women  and  little  children,  some 
of  whom  were  set  at  liberty  when  the  Indians  were  about  to  march  off.  Ac- 
counts differ  aboiit  the  nund)er  .slain,  blather  fixing  it  at  fifty,  others  at  from 
seventy-five  to  a  hundred.  The  blow  was  sudd(Mi,  unexpected,  deadly.  York 
became  the  funeral  pyre  of  its  murdered  inliabitants ;  its  flames  were  extin- 
guished in  the  blood  of  the  victims.  No  wonder  Mather  calls  the  jjcrpetrators 
"  bloody  tygres."     To  call  this  war  would  be  a  foul  lil»t'l  upon  the  word. 

Among  the  scattered  houses,  which  then  extended  a  mile  and  a  half  along 
the  river,  four  or  five  had  been  expressly  constructed  as  a  defence  to  the  rest. 
They  were  therefore  called  garrisons.*    Thick  walls  of  hewn  timber  made  them 


CANAniAN    EQCIPPEP    FOR    A  WIXTEK's    MAIiClI. 


A  KAMBLK   IN   OLD    VUKK. 


55 


bullet-jji-oof,  while  the  inmates  could  be  doing  deadly  execution  upon  their 
assailants  through  the  loopholes  piercing  the  walls.  Kude  fortresses  they 
were,  yet  of  signal  use  in  repelling  just  such  attacks  as  the  one  we  have  now 
narrated. 

A  few  resolute  or  desperate  men  succeeded  in  breaking  through  their  assail- 
ants, and  so  gaining  the  shelter  either  of  Alcock's,  Harmon's,  Norton's,  or 
I'reble's  garrison.  The  enemy  summoned  them  all  to  surrender,  but  being  met 
with  a  stern  defiance,  they  drew  off  without  venturing  to  attack.  Except  these 
four  every  house  in  the  village  was  burned  to  the  ground. 

At  the  time  of  this  massacre,  Shubael  Dummer,  the  minister  of  York,  lived 
down  at  the  seaside,  not  far  from  Roaring  llock.  He  was  shot  down  at  his 
own  door,  in  the  act  of  mounting  his  horse.     His  wit'  and  son  were  carried  off 


Jl'XKINS'    (lAKKISON,    SCOTLAND. 

captives  with  the  rest,  and  Mather  pithily  says  that  "  one  of  the  h(dl  hounds  " 
strutted  about  among  tiie  prisoners  dressed  in  the  clothes  he  had  strijiped  from 
the  dead  body  of  his  victim. 

These  Indians  belonged  to  the  missions  of  Father  Thury  at  Penobscot,  and 
Father  Bigot  at  Kennebec,  by  whom  the  expedition  had  been  set  on  foot.  Be- 
fore dividing  their  i)lunder,  these  i)ious  savages  sang  the  Te  Deum  for  their 
victory.  They  also  chanted  matin  and  vesper  service  while  on  the  march  home, 
as  those  Avorthy  fathers  had  strictly  charged  them  not  to  omit  the  sacred  ottices 
of  religion  even  while  cutting  the  throats  of  the  innocent  and  the  helpless. 

A  boy  four  years  old,  called  Jeremiah  Moulton,  Avho  escaped  the  massacre, 
afterwards  grew  up  to  lead  an  avenging  band  against  this  same  Kennebec  tribe 
and  mission,  and  exterminated  both. 

York  Harbor  may  be  said  to  have  succumbed  to  the  devastating  hand  of 


hi  m 


I 


5G 


THK    I'INK-TREE   COAST. 


improvement.     All  these  modem  cottages  in  the  places  where  the  old  ones  had 
stood  for  so  many  years,  reminded  one  of  the  tracts  of  woodland,  also  under  my 
eye,  where  the  original  forest  is  being  rei)laced  by  a  second  growth,  yet  of  a 
different  genus,    according   to 
tlie  law  of  natural  succession. 
Down  by  the  river's  bank, 
and  rea(died  tlirough  a  grassy 
lane  tliat  slips  away  from  the 
high  road  almost  unnoticed  at 
your    right,  —  a    lane    where 
daisies   and    buttercups   pee]» 
among  the    grass    tufts,    and 
where    larkspur,    nasturtium. 


and  sweet-peas  l)loom  beside 
the  houses,  —  there  is  a 
shady  and  secpiestered  nook. 
It  is  about  the  nu)st  pictur- 
es(pie  bit  of  Old  York  I 
eoidd  discover  remainintj. 

The  neighborhood  to  which 
I  allude  might  Avith  truth  be 
called  the  last  stronghold  of 
Old  York.  lUit  it  is  evident 
that  when  the  outworks  have 
fallen  the  citadel  cannot  long 
hold  out.  Of  course  there  is  a  group  of  old  houses  here,  huddled  together  as  if 
for  mutual  protection.  One  of  them  is  the  Karrell  homestead,  said  to  have  been 
built  by  Jonathan  Say  ward,  in  171;^  who.  as  captain  of  a  transport,  brought 
home  some  of  the  spoil  of  Louisburg  in  the  shape  of  rare  old  china  and  old 
brasses.      The  others  are  typical  New  England  farmhouses,  belonging  to  an 


ABOUT    YOIIK    H.VUBOR. 


\\ 


m 


A    HAMULE    IN   OLD    YOUK. 


50 


earlier  period,  low-walled,  slant-roofed,  big-ehiinneyed  affairs,  half  sniothert'd 
in  lilacs  when  I  saw  them,  half  hid  beneath  great  masses  of  foliage  that  hung 
about  the  strong-limbed  elms  overhead.  How  often  I  have  heard  just  suish 
houses  ridiculed  !  And  now  thej  are  actually  building  cottages  to  look  as  near 
like  them  as  possible  ! 

On  the  other  hand,  the  village  people,  taking  pattern  after  the  more  modern 
cottages  around  them,  are  everywhere  making  over  their  old  houses  into  new 
ones,  so  that  our  villages  are  in  danger  of  being  spoiled  by  the  improving  hand 
of  carpenters  and  masons.  ]3y  this  means  some  of  the  oldest  mansions  have 
been  so  metamorphosed  with  i)aint  and  filigree  work  that  their  builders  would 
never  know  them  again.  It  is  a  curious  thing,  this  play  at  ci'oss-purposes 
between  the  old  and  new  residents.  What  city  people  really  like  best  about 
country  villages  is  their  nntural  charm,  the  fitness  of  things  to  their  place 
and  surrounding.s,  the  absence  of  oil  straining  after  effect.  Yet  it  is  they  who 
have  set  the  fashion  o'.  universal  renovation. 

Two  superb  elms  stand  guard  between  what  is  antique  and  mellowed  by  age, 
and  what  is  new,  strange,  and  but  half  naturalized.  Three  wharves  with  some 
dingy  coal-sheds  and  fish-houses,  three  coasters  with  grimy  hulls  and  half- 
stowed  sails,  announce  our  arrival  at  the  harbor.  It  is  that  part  of  the  river 
where  a  little  peninsula,  called  Stage  Neck,  on  which  the  Marshall  House  is 
situated,  strikes  out  from  the  shore,  thus  forcing  the  river  to  make  a  sharp 
ddtour,  and  also  effectually  breaking  oft'  the  ocean  swell. 

From  a  little  circular  battery,  half  earth,  half  ledge,  perched  at  the  extreme 
point  of  this  neck  of  land,  the  river  opens  its  foaming  mouth,  garnished  with 
rows  of  jagged  tusks,  and  exhibiting  a  palate  of  sand  wide  to  the  sea,  which 
unduhttes  its  glossy  back  just  outside  like  a  monster  python.  Urged  on  by  the 
flood  tide,  which  sets  strongly  into  the  harbor,  the  long  ground-swell  launcdies 
billow  after  billow  into  the  river's  open  jaws,  through  which  they  advance  in 
successive  dark  ridges,  to  fall  heavily  upon  the  little  beach,  or  go  crashing  up 
among  the  glistening  rocks. 

Eight  or  nine  miles  out,  in  plain  sight,  Boon  Island  lifts  its  solitary  sliaft 
aloft  like  an  "eternal  exclamation  mark"  to  the  temerity  of  its  builders. 
There  is  no  comfortable  dwelling  on  that  lonely  rock,  over  which  storms  sweep 
unchecked.  The  tower  is  itself  both  house  and  home  to  the  watchmen  of  the 
sea,  and  in  great  gales  a  prison  from  which  there  is  no  escape  until  the  return 
of  fine  weather.     This  forlorn  spot  has  also  its  forlorn  story. 

Long  ago,  the  ship  Nottingham  Gallctf,^  Deane  master,  bound  from  London 
for  Boston,  struck  on  this  island  on  a  wild  December  night ;  and  as  she  struck, 
down  came  all  her  masts.  In  falling,  the  foremast  lodged  against  the  ledge, 
thus  forming  a  perilous  bridge  over  which  all  the  ship's  company  crept  to  the 
inhospitable  rock.  During  the  night  the  ship  broke  up.  Daylight  revealed 
their  situation  to  them  in  all  its  horror,  though  their  nearness  to  the  mainland 
gave  hopes  of  a  speedy  rescue,  the  more  so  as  they  had  saved  next  to  nothing 
from  the  wreck.     It  will  hardly  be  credited  that  they  remained  on  this  rock 


1 


Jl 


(')() 


THE   PINE-TKKE   COAST. 


undiscovered  from  the  lltli  of  December  until  the  2d  of  January,  seeing  vessels 
puss  by  them  at  a  distance  now  and  then,  but  always  failing  to  attract  the 
attention  of  those  on  board.  During  this  time  they  built  a  boat  out  of  materials 
saved  from  the  wreck.  That  was  no  sooner  launched  than  a  wave  thrust  it 
back  against  the  sharp  rocks,  which  crushed  it  like  an  eggshell.  This  accident 
made  tlicm  despair  of  ever  (putting  the  island,  yet  their  misery  forced  them  to 
a  second  trial;  for  it  was  dcatli  to  remain  where  they  were,  and  no  worse  could 
befall  theiiX  in  any  case.  So  they  got  together  what  few  timbers  remained  from 
the  wreck,  made  a  raft  of  them,  put  two  of  the  strongest  and  most  resolute  of 
the  crew  on  board,  and  sent  it  adrift  on  its  forlorn  errand.  The  raft  floated, 
or  was  driven,  ashore,  where  it  was  found,  and  a  search  instituted  for  the 
builders.  Heaven  only  knows  what  had  become  of  its  navigators.  They  were 
never  more  heard  of  again.  In  the  meantime,  however,  two  of  the  crew  had  died 
on  the  island,  of  want  and  exposure.  Before  the  rest  could  be  found  and  taken 
off  they  had  been  compelled  to  resort  to  cannibalism  in  order  to  save  their  own 
lives.  And  all  this  hajjpened  Avithin  i)lain  sight  of  this  spot,  as  I  am  telling 
you,  in  the  year  1710. 


*  Mount  Af;amonticu.s  is  the  subject  of  a  siiifnilar  Indian  tradition,  acconling  to  which 
St.  Asi)cn(iiii(l.  a  iiropiii't  and  saint  anionj;  his  pt'oiiU-,  was  burifd  on  tlii'  siuninit  \sitli  iinposiiifj; 
ftuuTal  ritt's.  [lU-fcr  to  .lolm  Allit-c's  poftical  rtMuK'ring  of  the  story  ;  also  to  '•  New  England 
Legends  and  Folk  l^ore."'  \>.  JJOO.] 

-  rrince  Cliarles,  afterwards  Charles  T.,  altered  the  name  of  Airanienticns  to  Boston. 

*  Sir  Eerdinando  (Jorges'  "Description  of  New  England,"  and  his  "  Ihiefe  Relation" 
(London,  1022),  put  forth  by  the  I'lynionth  Company,  are  reprinted  in  J.  1'.  Baxter's  "Life 
and  Letters  of  (lorges  "  (rrince  Society).  l{ilknai>'s  "  American  Hi<igrai>hy,"  "  Life  of  Captain 
.(olui  Mason,"  by  John  Ward  Dean  (Prince  Society) ;  "  Vindication  of  the  Claims  of  Gorges," 
by  John  A.  Poor,  give  more  or  less  collateral  data  of  inti'rest.  For  tiorges'  share  in  tlie 
Essex  conspiracy,  consult  Hume  or  Knight  for  the  generally  acctjjted  view  that  (lorges 
betrayed  Essex ;  or  fuller  information  may  be  fountl  in  the  biogi-aphies  of  lialeigh,  by  Ed- 
ward ICdwards,  James  A.  St.  John,  and  Ednuuid  (io.s.se.  Doyle's  "  English  in  America'"  takes 
the  same  ground. 

*  The  authority  for  this  statement  is  Winthrop's  "Journal,"  IL  10;  also  Maverick's 
"Description  of  New  England,"  (p.  !»),  in  which  it  is  said,  "on  the  north  side  of  this  river 
[Agamenticus],  at  our  great  cost  and  charge,  we  [that  is.  Sir  F.  Gorges,  Edward  (Jodfrey, 
Alilerman  Ilooke,  of  Bristol,  S.  Maverick,  and  others]  settled  many  families,  which  was  then 
called  Bristol."  Gorges  himself  asserts  that  LieutenaiU-Colonel  Walter  Norton  was  the  moving 
spirit  in  setting  this  plantation  on  foot ;  indeed,  he  refers  all  his  own  share  in  it  to  Norton's 
solicitation.  And  Gorges  further  says  that,  upon  his  consenting,  Norton  "and  some  of  his 
associates  hastened  to  take  po.ssession,  .  .  .  carrying  with  them  their  families."  BiU  Edward 
(Jodfrey  declares  himself  "tiie  first  tliat  ever  bylt  or  .settled"  lat  York  (.^Llssachusetts  files). 
Mis  house  is  supposed  to  have  been  at  the  nortli  side  of  tlie  harbor,  as  the  settlement  began 
there.     We  cannot  refer  it  to  an  earlier  date  than  Ki.SO. 

fi  As  laid  out  by  (Jorges,  Gorgeana  contained  twenty-one  square  miles.  He  first  (April, 
1<»41)  created  it  a  borough,  of  which  Thomas  Gorges,  his  cousin,  was  named  "  fir.st  and  next 
maior."  This  order  could  hardly  have  been  put  in  force  before  it  was  superseded  by  the  city 
charter,  under  which  Edward  Godfrey  became  mayor:  Roger  Garde,  whom  Winthrop  calls  "a 


A    ILVMHLK    IN  OLD    YoHK. 


(il 


taylor,"  succeediiiK  liim  for  sever.il  teniis.  (ior),'i'iuia  lu-vi-r  ntsf  above  the  dignity  of  a 
village,  though  it  actiniivd  uoiiHtMiueiice  from  being  tlie  reHiilence  of  the  ilepiUy-governor,  placf 
of  nieeting  for  the  provincial  iigi.slatiut'  and  courts  of  juisticc.  Wcv.  Ucnjaniin  Hull,  who  was 
the  nnnisler  in  lti4.'J,  i«  spoken  of  by  Wintlirop  as  "an  exconiuiunicatcd  juison  and  very  cun- 
tentious."  The  line  was  sharply  drawn  between  tlie  Uoyalist  province  and  I'uritan  colonies 
when  Kinj;  ("liarlcs  set  up  the  royal  standard,  in  KII'J,  a^'ainst  tlie  I'arliainent.  'I'hc  New 
Kngland  I'uritans  believed,  with  nuich  reason,  that  (iorges  hatl  tried  to  compass  their  ruin. 
The  I'lnted  Coloiues,  therefore,  refused  to  a<lmit  Maine  into  their  Confederacy  of  1(]4;{.  [Dr. 
Charles  K.  Hanks  is  the  author  of  a  poem,  entitled  "  Againenticus,"  printed  anonymou.sly  in 
Jiongfellow's  •' I'oems  of  I'laces,"  and  in  "New  Kugland  Leuends."] 

"  Thomas  (iori:es.  the  tirst  mayor,  lived  about  half  a  mile  above  what  is  called  Trafton's 
Ferry,  near  (Jorges'  Point.  '•  The  cellar  of  the  house  he  dwelt  in  remains  to  this  day."  (Ilutch- 
son,  l-Ki.*].)  lion.  David  Sewall  .says  that  the  salt-marsiies  near  the  hejjd  of  York  IJivtr 
brought  settlers  to  that  point  "  at  a  pretty  early  ixTJud."  I'erliaps  this  may  account  fur  the 
location  of  the  otticial  residence  at  such  a  distance  from  the  harlxpr.  (Account  of  York  in 
"Massachusetts  Historical  Collectious."  IT'.M.) 

'  Mather  gives  the  date  nf  January  2-j,  KiUl.     My  dates  are  new  style. 

^  Garrisons  were  sometiiiu's  private  dwellings,  and  sometimt's  built  at  jtublic  charge. 
Hutchinson  says  it  was  thought  justifiable  anil  lu'cessary,  whatever  the  general  nde  of  law- 
might  be,  to  erect  such  forts  as  these  upon  a  man's  own  ground  without  special  license.  The 
two  now  staiuling  in  Scotland  Parish  are  the  best  examples  remaining  of  private  houses 
adapted  for  defence.  (.Mclntire's,  one  of  those  ju.st  referred  to.  was  burned  in  .Iiuu'.  l^(^<0, 
after  the  above  was  written.)      Alcnck's  was  the  house  built  by  William  Houke.  l(i:!'2  or  l(i:j;J. 

"  Head  the  account  of  "John  Deane,  Ma.ster  of  the  Nottingham,"  printed  at  Boston. 
1711;  also  the  "  Watch  of  Hoon  Island,"  by  Mrs.  Thaxter,  "  New  Kngland  Legends."  p.  .^O. 
The  light  occupies  one  of  the  most  desolate  positions  of  any  oi  our  north-coast  beacons,  being 
six  miles  from  the  nearest  lauil. 


ij 


*^  •■--■■'•     r-v;:^^3-i' 


IIAKD    KAKK. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


h\ 


0(iiTXQuiT,  iiAi,i»   iii:ai>,  ami  that  SIIoKK. 

"  Wlint  I'urt'  tlii'sc  rnarcrs  for  tlic  naiiif  nf  Kiiii; '.'  "  —  Tempest. 

FllOM  York  to  O^'iiiKiuit  is  ten  miles. 
One  (U'liglitt'ul  ^liiy  niorning  1  swunj,'  off  on  foot,  on  the  Cape  Xeddoek 
road,  with  ()<j;nn(init  in  view  as  my  next  haltiiiL^'-phice.     Tins  t-xcursion  takes 
in  the    Lont,'   Sands,  Vt)rk  Nnbble,  the   Short    Sands,  and  I'.ahl  Head  Clitt', — 
enouj;li,  in  all  conscience,  to  he  eompriseil  in  a  sin>;le  day's  jannt. 

Sprinj^  comes  slowly  and  reluctantly  here.  We  sometimes  wonder  if  it 
eomes  at  all,  or  if  it  is  not  a  fiction  of  the  almanac  makers,  since  it  is  no 
nncominon  thint;  to  have  a  killing  frost  in  Jnne,  and  there  are  old  people  who 
still  tell  of  the  year  Avhen  there  was  a  frost  in  every  month. 

Trees  put  forth  their  bnds,  and  Howers  come  into  hloom,  ten  days  later  than 
the  same  species  do  on  the  Massachusetts  eoiist ;  yet  the  native  growth  is  full 
of  lusty  life,  and  when  once  there  comes  a  day  or  two  of  warm  sunshine,  the 
transformation  effected  by  a  few  lumrs  is  like  the  work  of  enchantnuuit.  ^'ou 
believe  that  you  can  almost  see  the  grass  grow  under  your  feet.  Out  eonu'  the 
buds  and  the  blossoms.  Up  start  the  fronds  aiul  the  flags.  Only  yesterday  you 
could  see  the  blue  sky  through  yonder  strip  of  naked  bindies.  Now  look  ! 
All  their  bare  branches  -would  seem  to  have  eaught  the  drops  of  son\e  golden 
shower.  To-morrow  all  these  bright  yellow  beads  will  have  burst  into  leaf,  and 
the  nakediu'ss  of  the  lamlscape  you  have  looked  out  upon  through  the  weary 
winter  months  have  become  only  a  grievous  memory. 
02 


OUL'NQUIT,  UALD   IlKAl),    AND    lllAr   SlIOUK. 


(ui 


There  is  a  tine  strip  of  shore,  rising  to  a  hold  hhiff  at  tlic  harhor,  whicli 
strctciu's  roiuiil  the  st'a-troiit  as  tar  as  Kastcrii  Point,  where  tlie  liigh  siiopc 
l)reaks  off  abru[)tly  and  tlie  l)eaeh  hegins.  All  alonj,'  this  hliitT,  the  surface  of 
which  is  rou<,dily  broken  l»y  rocky  pastures,  from  which  the  first  settlers  turned 
away  in  disj,'ust,  a  summer  (lolony  has  sprung  into  being.  There  is  now  no 
land  in  York  that  is  worth  so  much.  Strang*'  that  what  tho  builders  cou- 
dennied  should  t'ver  havi^  becorw  the  new  founda- 
tion !  It  was  pleasing  to  see  that  the  occupants 
have  so  far  very  sensibly  refrained  fntm  trying  to 
convert  these  pastures  into  reguhir  streets,  lanes,  and 
garden  jdots,  but  have  h'ft  the  wihl  growth,  tlu'  sweet- 
scented  bay  and  eglantine,  the  whortleberry  and  the 
raspberry  as  they  found  it.  Tt  is  one  of  the  (  hoice 
spots  of  the  coast,  and  has  a  charming  socnety. 

York  Nubble  bounds  the  view  at  the  hdt,  and  the 
Shoals  at  the  right.  A  half-hour's  brisk  walk  takes 
one  to  the  heautiful  gray  beach  known  as  the  Long 
Sands. 

The  Long  Sands  join  the  two  headlands  just  sp(tken 
of  with  ci  gleam  of  light  and  a  frill  of  foam.  \\'hen 
the  tide  is  out,  this  beach  is  about  the  most  jiopular 
l)art  of  all  York,  —  its  promenade,  its  bonlevard,  its 
recreation  park.      On  ev(My  tine  day  it  wears  a  very 

gay  and  animated  appearance,  each  group  making  its  dash  of  color  on  tlu'  cool 
gray  sand,  though  it  does  schmu  odd  to  see  so  many  ])eople  moving  about  with- 
out noise;  for  this  pavement,  hard  and  firm  as  it  is,  gives  out  no  sound  to  tlu; 
footfall. 

We  have  just  seen  rivers  running  to  waste ;  and  hen^  now  is  the  ocean 
I)ouring  its  cataracts  of  water  on  the  btuudi  in  jmre  loss,  laboring  to  no  purpose, 
like  a  giant  harnessed  in  a  treadmill. 

These  spacious  beaches  are  to  the  rough  coast-wall  what  cleared  tields  are 
among  forests.  They  make  spots  of  sunshine,  tracts  of  alluring  pleasantness, 
which  lighten  one's  spirits,  and  lend  an  agreeable  diversity  to  the  scene.  So 
we  are  seldom  unwilling  to  come  down  off  the  rocks  for  a  turn  on  the  flat  and 
nicely  sanded  floor  of  the  beach.  A  very  lively  surf  is  generally  running  on 
this  one,  even  with  smooth  Avater  outside,  so  that  there  is  nearly  always  a  fine 
exhibition.  AVe  enjoy  seeing  the  breakers  roll  in  and  the  ships  go  by.  ^Ve 
are  very  much  delighted  with  the  essentially  panoramic  effect  of  this  noiseless 
flitting  of  sails  along  the  sharply  drawn  horizon  line.  We  seem  looking  on 
while  a  vast  canvas  is  heing  unrolled;  nor  do  we  notice,  until  warned  by  the 
crash  of  water  around  us,  that  in  our  preoccupation  we  have  nearly  walked  out 
into  the  surf. 

At  high-watermark  the  sea  has  some  time  thrown  up  a  quite  high  and  broad 
ridge  of  smoothly  rounded  blue  and  red  pebbles,  which   makes  an  excellent 


;.; 


G4 


T!IK    I'lXK-THKE   COAST. 


foundation  for  tlu.'  road  they  have  huilt  upon  it,  above  the  reach  of  the  tides. 
We  say  glihly  that  the  sea  has  done  this.  And  tiome  one  at  our  elbow  chiiues 
in  with,  'M)h,  yes,  of  course;  that  is  evident  enouj,di ;  it  was  the  sea,  to  be  sure." 
Very  true;  but  when  did  it  hMj)])en '.'  Not  within  the  nienmry  of  any  living 
man.  No  out  reuienduMS  the  gale  that  heaped  these  millions  u])on  millions  of 
tons  oi'  loose  stones  where  they  hav(!  lain  undisturbed  for  centuries.  Nothing 
siiort  of  a  ti(hd  wave  borne  across  the  Atlanti(!  on  the  baiik  of  a  hurricane  could 
have  done  it.  "When  that  roaring  monster  nmde  his  unw(dc()me  visit  here,  all 
the  low  country  along  the  coast  nnist  have  been  flooded  with  oceans  of  water. 
Oidy  once  have  T  met  with  the  record  of  sucli  a  storm.  During  tlu^  great  gale 
of  August  1"),  K*.")"),  the  tide  rosi'  to  suc-h  a  height  that  in  some  places  the 
Indians  were  forced  to  clind)  into  trees  in  order  to  save  themstdves  from  drown- 
ing.    The  wind  blew  with  such  violence  that  there  was  no  perc«'ptible  ebbing 


KAIM.V    M()lfXIN(i  — TI'K    M  IIIII.K,     VOltIi    llKAfll. 


of  the  tide  at  all,  as  the  raging  water^i  were  kept  heaped  uji  on  the  sliores  for  so 
long  as  the  gale  last«'d.  The  present  century  is  not  likely  to  match  such  a 
tempest  as  that. 

I>ack  of  this  sea-wall  a  straggling  collection  of  small  hotels  and  cottages, 
shoi)S  and  pa^'ilions  stand  singly  and  in  groups  as  the  cape  is  appntached.  Uack 
of  these  extends  an  undrained  tract  of  swamp  steaming  under  the  hot  noonday 
sun. 

Cape  Xeddock  is  a  long  tongue  of  land  on  whi(di  nothing  grows  but  coarse, 
wiry  grasses,  — a  succession  of  rocky  knobs  and  deep  spongy  hollows.  —  thrust 
otf  from  the  main  shore  into  the  sea,  which  the  heated  rocks  lap  with  avidity. 
Tiie  water  lying  between  this  cape  and  Eastern  I'Dint  goes  by  the  name  t)f  Long 
Sands  l>ay. 

Hy  following  a  cart-track  for  a  quarter  of  an  hoiir  one  comes  to  the  canal, 
a  stone's  throw  across,  dividing  the  cape  from  the  Nid»ble  Hock.  On  the  top 
of  this  bare  crag  the  lighthouse-keeper's  dwelling  and  foy-signal  stand  out  bold 


Sl'.MMEU   NUillT   OX   TIIK    COAST 


!    1 

:  i 

1  '•' 

iii 

!  1 


ili 


!1    T' 


<»C;l■^■(inT,  HALI)  HEAD.  AND  THAT  SHoUK 


67 


JANIAKY  AXn  MAV. 


and  sharp  against  the  blue  sky.  At  the  east,  a  chimp  of  blanched  ledges 
streti'hes  off.  It  is  an  ideal  sea-eyrie.  The  i>rosi)eet  comprises  everythinj; 
between  Cape  Ann  and  Cape  Elizabeth  in  clear  weather,  and  is  every  way 
admirable.  Turning  now  toward  the  east,  Bald  Head  Cliff  breaks  away  from 
the  shore  at  a  few  miles  from  us,  so  forming  a  shallow 
bay  l)etween. 

One  of  tlie  highest  elevations  of  the  cape  is  traversed  by 
a  stone  wall  which,  with  the  battery  at  Stage  Neck,  broadly 
exhibits  the  .state  of  our  seacoast  defences  during  the  War 
of  IHl'J,  —  no  longer  the  last,  but  the  worst,  everything  con- 
sidered, which  the  nation  has  waged. 

While  walking  about  the  neighborhood  1  met  with  a  local  i)ropriet(»r,  with 
whom  I  scrajit'd  an  accpiaintance  at  short  notice.  I  began  bv  artfully  i)raisiiig 
the  locality,  the  air,  the  views,  the  feeling  of  repose.  "Ji'm,  too  (juiet  for  nie. 
I  would  be  willing  to  get  out  of  it,"  he  replied  brusijuidy.  Trying  to  fall  in 
with  his  humor,  I  suggested  that  some  people,  certainly,  would  prefer  less  sand 
and  more  soil,  less  bog  and  more  ui^and.  ''City  folks  like  sand."  he  retorted. 
Then  after  a  little  reflection,  feeling,  perhaps,  that  he  had  spoken  his  mind  too 
freel}-,  he  asked  me  to  look  over  his  place  with  him,  —  told  r  i'  th«'  age  of  the 
h.mse,  what  it  vould  cost  to  get  bvaber,  who  planted  the  willows,  how  hens 
could  l>e  raised  for  nothing  at  all,  pointed  out  the  boundaries,  and  mentioned 
the  aggregate  of  his  ocres  of  stones  and  sand ;  all  of  which  I  listened  to  as  a 
matter  of  course, 
though  I  thought 
him  grown  remark- 
ably conununica- 
tive  all  at  once. 
When  I  had  taken 
a  few  steps  to  leave 
him,  he  suddenly 
called  out  after 
me,  "  I  wish  some 
one  would  come 
along  and  offer  me 
twenty  thousand 
dolhirs  for  my 
place ;  see '.'  "  The 
man  had  taken  me 

for  a  land-broker  or  a  speculator.     Shade  of  John  Law  !  have  these  people  gone 
mad.  t(M) '.' 

The  «h*ep  nook  at  the  head  of  which  is  the  Short  Sands  gives  on(»  the  strange 
i<lea  of  a  large  mouthful  bitten  out  of  the  <*oast.  It  is  by  far  the  safest  l)athing 
Iwaeh  I  liave  ever  seen,  it  l)eing  as  Hat  us  a  floor,  very  broad,  free  from  stones, 
well  sheltered  at  its  sides,  and  shelving  off  so  gently  from  high-watt  r  mark  that 


(MON    lll.l>F,     \il|{K. 


J 

n 


lb 


)i.S 


TllK    I'INK-TKKK   roAS'l". 


then'  is  littlt;  <l;iiij;»'r  of  j^<'ttin<;  hcyoiKl  (iiic's  dcptli.  Tlicic  is  no  niidt'itow  iit 
Jill.  Tin*  t«*iii]HT;itun'  hen-  is  soinctliiiii,'  luioiiiiilous,  lor  \vit,li  tin-  intTfurv  n'L,ns- 
tcriiii;  *.yj°  wlu-ii  1  h'ft  I'ortsiuoiitli,  1  louiul  it,  iallt'ii  to  TS"  on  tin-  hciirh  ;it  tlii^ 
lioiir  ot   noon. 

At  ulM)Ut  ii  linndi't'il  ikiccs  above  thr  present  lii^di-water  mark,  and  stret(diiii<^ 
ijuite  aero.ss  the  head  of  the  Iw'acdi,  one  sees  a  lii^di.  j,'rassy  liaidi  on  w  Iiirh  one  or 
two  hotels  are  advanta;^'e(jusly  hn-ated.  it  is  all  that  jjrevents  the  Ljreat  tides, 
that  always  eonie  with  j^reat  storms.  I'rom  foreini,'  their  way  across  the  hi-ad  of 
the  heaeh,  ami  iiiuiidatini^  the  lowlands  behind  it.  This  natural  endiankment 
has  all  tlu'  appearauee  of  an  artifi<-ial  levee,  lor  which,  indeed,  it  is  an  exctdlent 
substitute;  only,  in  point  of  fact,  the  winds  and  waves  have  done  the  work  i>\'  a 
thousand  hiborers  in  throwin;^  it  up  where  we  now  see  it,  thoULjh  some  oiiinis<-ient 
journalists  wouhl  have  us  believe  that  its  ori^dn  is  a  mystery.  The  really 
stranj,'e  thini;  about  it,  as  all  must  aj,'ree,  is  that  at  the  cape  end,  where  it  joins 
the  firm  j^round,  the  mound  turns  sharply  inward,  thus  forming,'  a  rii,dit  aii;^de  to 
the  front,  of  as  re<,'ular  workmanship  as  was  ever  laid  out  by  a  nnlitary  eiij^i- 
lUM'r.  Indeed,  if  such  a  curictsity  should  be  found  at  some  inland  point,  it  would 
be  taken  for  the  defensive  work  of  a  prehistoric  people. 

From  here  we  betake  ourselves  to  the  hum[ibacked  road  tJiat  t,'<tes  undulat  int,' 
olf  to  the  east.  This  is  a,  part  of  the  coast,  I  hasten  to  say.  that  has  been  lom^ 
ne^^liH'ted,  hut  is  now  be<;innin}^  to  find  Ixitter  appre(;iation,  witii  improved  m»ans 
of  access. 

Alter  i,'oin,i^  a  mile  or  so  we  come  to  the  little  setth-ment  scattered  about  the 
banks  ui  Cape  Neddoek  iJiver,  which  is  oidy  an  irrej,qdar  crack  in  the  granite 
wall  of  coast,  tilled  by  one  i'uU'  and  draini'd  dry  by  the  next,  where  rocks  alter- 
nate with  .saml.  The  .settlement,  however,  ^'oes  back  to  nearly,  if  not  ipiite,  as 
early  a  day  as  the  oldest  in  ^'luk.  l)urin;4  Tliilip's  War  the  villaije  here  was 
completely  destroyeil.  and  buty  persons  either  killed  or  carried  into  (taptivity. 

l>efore  the  day  of  railroads  Cape  Neddoek  was  the  usual  stoppini^f-plaee  for 
th(!  mail-coach  passing,'  twice  a  week  between  iJoston  ami  i'oitland.  freeman's 
tavern  ha<l  then  many  a  notaidu  ^uest  under  its  roof.  Some  years  a.i^o  the  old 
tavern-stand  was  d«'stroyed  by  tire  and  never  rebuilt,  as  the  railways  had 
turned  away  all  i'ustom  from  its  door,  thouj.(h  now  that  travel  is  lindini,'  its 
way  back  into  its  old  channels  a.ijain.  the  ancient  hostel  is  sadly  missed. 

I'oor  country,  poor  people  I  Vou  think  the  phras(!  '•  poverty  stricken  "  must 
have  been  invented  for  it.  ^'et  there  is  everywhere  a  tdiarminjf  blendinj^  of  sea 
and  "ore.  Decrejiit  orchards  indicate  Iohlj  occu|tation  of  tlu;  unfertile  laml ; 
l)ut  it  is  also  plain  that  one  j^eneration  has  merely  succeeded  another,  as  one 
.soldier  mit(ht  step  into  the  place  made  vacant  by  a  fallen  comiade.  witlmut 
f^rowiiii,' any  the  bettered!.  The  j,'rainte  swells  lift  their  bij,'  backs  hi,L,dier  in  the 
air.  Houses  f.jrnw  more  and  more  unfrefpient.  Apparently  we  have  rea<d>ed  a 
l>oint  where  the  world  has  come  to  a  standstill,  —  wiiere  people  merely  plod 
alon<^,  and  f^row  old. 

Not  above  a  mile  from  this  place  a  remarkably  bohl  headland  lifts  head  and 


n(ir.\(^l  11',    MAI. I)    IIKAI),    AM)   THAI'   >il  tUK. 


(i9 


shouMt'i'S  ovtT  cvciytliiiij,'  iindiiid  it.  This  is  BiiM  Hciul  Cliff.  Tpon  tin! 
Itlt'iik  and  w  iiitl}-  l)n»\v  tlifif  is  a  lidtcl, —  an  objtM-t  in  tlic  huuLscaix!  of  this  coast 
whirh  (in»'  is  sfhhmi,  it'  ever,  out,  ol'  siL,'ht  ot".  As  it,  nears  tin;  clitT,  tlic  road 
(doscly  huj^s  tht;  shores  of  two  romantic  litth;  coves,  hoHowcil  out  of  tin-  rocks, 
where  the  waves,  hreakiii}^  lin(dy  at  our  feet,  first  pusii  tlie  loo.se  jtelthh-s  ludorc 
thcMi  u|)  the  strand,  iattlin<;  h)udly  at  hidnj;  thus  disturlM'd,  then  dra};  them 
chittering  hack  ai^'ain  with  the  force  of  tlie  nndcrtow.  'I'his,  then,  is  the  natural 
lalioratory  where  the  process  of  smoothint^  and  jiolishint,'  is  carried  on.  and 
those  1}  in^  at  our  feet  are  the  comidt'ted  work.  'Ihe  rim  of  the  cove  where  we 
are  walking  is  formed  of  the.s*;  same  pcbhles,  tin!  jjn'tticst  of  all  natural  mosaics, 


':  I  n 


iiAi.n  in:Ai>  ('i.m'I'. 


u]>f)n  which  tin;  waves  expend  .so  much  useless  lahor.     ( Hd  ( >cean  seems  in  a 
sjiortive  mood  here,  and  we  readily  fall  in  with  its  playfid  m 1. 

Mo.s.sy  ledges  now  thrust  thcii'  hare  hacks  aliove  grouml  all  ahor*^  n.s. 
Kverywhere  the  reddish-lirown  rocks,  colored  hy  the  action  (d'  the  .salt  air,  Ir.dge 
out  through  the  thin  turf  piteously.  !u  vain  the  glass  tries  to  cover  their 
nakedness.  Nothing  less  hanly  than  the  dwarf  juniper,  the  whortleherry,  the 
hayherry,  or  kindred  shruhs,  whitdi  seem  to  love  the  neighlxirhood  of  these 
nx'ks,  and  (ding  or  hang  ahout  their  creviites,  can  extract  a  living  fnuu  the  lean 
soil.  Kven  thes(!  horny  junipers  seem  to  havi;  thrown  themselves  flat  on  tlie 
ground  to  avoid  heing  torn  from  their  hold  hy  the  fierce  winter  gales  which 
make  everything  here  grow  so  stunted  ;ind  deformed. 

The  iron  (toast  now  stands  up  stern  and  dehant  htd'ore  us.  in  one  huge  ovjm' 
hanging  mass.     We  hear  the  sin'sh  and  hoom  of  water  all  along  its  hase 
the  near  promontories  sink  to  insigniHcance. 


\1I 


I     i    1  >  4  ■ 


w^ 


70 


TlIK   I'INK-TUKK   COAST. 


Imagine  an  enormous  rusty-red  crag  lifted  high  up  above  the  fume  and 
pother  going  on  alujut  its  feet,  —  a  crag  seamed  all  over  its  exposed  face  with 
cracks  and  rents,  the  scars  of  a  thousand  battles  with  storm  and  temj)est,  yet 
banded  and  knit  together  b}  great  knotted  veins  of  enduring  stone  in  one  solid 
mass,  —  against  which  a  per[)etual  surf  is  hurling  itself  with  the  regular  strokes 
of  a  trip-hammer;  imagine  this  crag  thrust  out  so  far  from  the  land  as  to 
expose  itself  to  the  whole  fury  of  the  Atlantic,  and  you  may  have  some  idea  of 
what  Bald  Head  Cliff  is  like.  It  is  not  a  thing  to  excite  admiration.  Rather 
it  amazes  us  by  its  embodiment  of  rugged  strength,  of  passive  against  active 
force,  as  we  read  the  history  of  its  many  conflicts  on  its  battered  front. 

Feet  and  inches  do  not  count  here.  One  b(M!omes  fully  absorbed  in  the 
grandeur  of  the  cond)at  between  two  sucdx  adversaries.  Let  us  watch  its  prog- 
ress for  a  few  minutes.  Every  three  or  four  sec^onds  the  waves  launch  a  catapult 
of  water  fidl  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff.  The  sho(*k  is  tremendous.  A  spectral  col- 
umn of  white  spray  is  shot  high  uj)  the  verti(!al  wall,  steadies  itself  there  for  an 
instant,  bends  like  a  reed  to  the  wind,  and  then  falls  back  into  the  foaming 
waters  below  with  a  noise  like  the  rattle  of  hailstones.  Then  the  spent  wave 
changes  from  a  deep  black  to  a  pale  malachite-green,  and  is  dragged  back  by 
the  recoil,  a  broken  and  helpless  thing. 

After  this  onset  and  repulse  there  comes  a  lull,  during  whi(!h  a  hundred 
little  cascades  gush  out  of  the  old  cracks  and  run  streaming  down  the  broken 
stejjs  which  the  retreating  wave  has  just  left  bare.  You  expect  to  see  some 
evidence  of  the  work  the  wave  has  just  done!  Summer  rain  ti'ickling  down 
the  face  of  a  statue  of  bronze  would  show  just  as  mm-h.  Yet  twic^e  or  thri(?e  a 
minute,  during  a  storm  at  sea,  volumes  of  water  are  hurled  against  this  cliif  suffi- 
cient to  sweep  a  village  from  its  site  without  leaving  a  trace  behind.  And  while 
you  have  but  just  thought  of  it,  all  this  has  been  going  on  since  the  world  began. 

But  there  are  all  about  you  evidences  of  rack  and  ruin  too  tremendoas  for 
doubt.  These  tell  the  story  of  the  cliff,  which  was  so  many  thousand  years  old 
before  it  Avas  affronted  with  its  puerile  ba[)tismal  name.  It  is  evident  that  a 
large  section  (»f  the  promontory,  perhaps  as  large  as  that  yet  remaining,  has 
been  not  only  demolished  in  course  of  time,  but  ac^tually  removed  from  the 
spot.  What  else  can  mean  this  smooth,  sheer  face,  this  long,  level  rock  floor  at 
the  base,  to  which  the  south  wall  is  joined  ?  And  where  shall  we  look  for  the 
relics  of  that  Cyclopean  battering,  the  sight  of  which  is  so  startling,  when  we 
are  standing  yn  the  great  dike,  wedged  into  the  heart  of  the  cliff  ? 

Taken  altogether,  the  cliff  att'ords  most  interesting  ground.  The  dike  just 
mentioned  is  jx'rhaps  the  most  curious  thing  about  it,  since  the  strata  really 
look  like  regularly  laid  courses  of  stone  pavement,  roughly  broken  oft"  at  the 
edges,  or,  better  still,  dented  by  the  blows  of  some  enornums  hammer.  Thou- 
sands visit  the  place  every  year.  You  turn  ott'  the  road  at  a  deserted  farmhouse, 
into  a  by-road  leading  to  tluf  hotel  and  the  brow  of  the  cliff,  and  on  tlu^  word  of 
an  old  traveller,  you  will  And  no  such  spacious  and  enrapturing  sea-view  for 
many  a  league  up  and  down  this  storied  coast. 


OGUNQUIT,    HALI)    HEAD,    AND   THAT  SIIUKE. 


71 


Though  it  happened  near  fifty  years  ago,  the  wreck  of  the  Isidore  is  one  of 
the  trauitioiis  of  this  locality  which  the  visitor  will  often  hear  talked  about. 
It  was  tbe  rivst  and  last  voyage  of  this  fated  ship.  Sh«^  had  set  sail  from 
Keujudmnkpoi't  on  one  of  those  deceitful  November  (hiys  that  old  sailors  know 
and  fear  as  weather-l)ree(lers.  So  it  j)roved  in  this  instjvnee.  A  gale  from  the 
northeast  struck  the  hidore  before  she  could  get  clear  of  the  bay,  forced  her 
among  the  breakers,  and  dashed  her  in  pieces  against  the  rocks  near  Bald  Head. 


AN    A<1KI>    SKVMAKK. 


i;);: 


without  a  soul  on  shore  knowing  of  the  tragedy  or  stretching  forth  a  hand  to 
save  the  crew.  Most  of  them  belonged  in  the  river,  where  the  ship  was  built. 
Not  one  was  left  to  tell  the  tale.  These  circumstances,  not  to  speak  of  a  cer- 
tain sorrowful  ballad  composed  for  the  occasion  by  sonu!  local  ])(»etaster,  hiive 
kept  the  memory  of  the  event  alive,  and,  indeed,  to  those;  who  had  friends 
on  board  the  tidings  oi  that  wreck  were  as  the  tidings  of  a  lost  battle. 

In  the  village  cemetery  at  Kennebunkjiort  a  stone  is  raised  to  the  memory 
of  Captain  Foss,  the  master  of  the  Isidore,  though  his  body  was  never  found,  or. 


If 


72 


THE   I'lXE-rUEE  COAST. 


h 


4. 


for  that  matter,  any  part  of  tlu'  luiliicky  ship  Iti^'  enough  to  make  a  handspike 
of.  The  hite  Captain  Kingsbury,  who  built  the  Isidore,  tohl  me  that  one  (hiy 
when  lie  was  walking  about  with  Foss,  under  the  ship's  lM»ttom,  iM'fore  she  was 
hiunehfd,  he  said  abruptly,  referring  to  the  flatness  of  tin*  Isidore'tt  floor, 
"Captain  Foss,  suppose  you  were  on  a  lee-shore  with  this  vessel  in  a  gale  of 
wind,  wluMH-  would  you  go  to  ?  " 

••  Wheiv  would  I  go?  "  Foss  repeated  after  him;  ''why,  ashore,  of  course." 

Three  miles  of  as  pi('tun'S(pu'  country  as  one  would  wish  to  see,  h't  him  be 
ev»*r  .so  trav»'ll«'d,  extend  bt'tween  Hald  Head  and  thi-  little  village  of  Ogumpiit. 
Mon.ster  Intwlders  lift  their  eliqihantiiif  backs  .so  often  in  your  path,  that  the 
crooked  roa«l  .seems  on  the  point  of  turning  back,  and  giving  \i\>  the  attempt  to 
get  on  in  despair.  There  are  rock  studies  all  alxMit  that  would  make  a  rising 
voting  artist's  fortune.  And  by  the  shore  huge  piles  of  desolate  looking  crags 
h'an  out  over  the  sea  in  all  manner  of  lawless  shapes  and  forms,  with  a  few 
sheep  gravely  cropping  the  ten(h'r  shoots  sprouting  from  the  crevices,  but  no 
sound  t«»  break  the  stony  silemu",  —  no,  not  even  the  dull  monotone  of  the  sea. 

W'lio  would  believe  that  su(di  solitudes  existed  almost  within  sight  and  hear- 
ing of  tlie  great  travelled  routes  ? 

After  twisting  awhile  among  these  ledges  you  presently  dive  down  into  a 
hoUow,  through  which  a  sluggish  brook,  skirted  by  scarecrow  pollards,  slips  out 
under  a  bridge  and  disappears  in  a  spongy  meadow. 

As  Balzac  says  of  the  liurgundian  peasantry,  "however  solitary  you  may 
think  yourself,  you  are  certain  to  Ix'  the  focus  of  two  eyes  of  a  country  bumji- 
kin."  An  ox-cart  came  lund)ering  down  the  hill  Ind'ore  me,  its  two  cliim.sy 
lj«'asts  wagging  their  big  heads  from  side  to  side  as  if  keeping  time  to  their  own 
slow  and  lieavy  tread;  while  the  driver,  a  great  overgnnvn  lout  of  a  boy,  all 
legs  and  arms,  with  shambling  gait  and  stoojting  shoulders,  wli<»s»'  lank  hair 
stuck  out  through  the  cracks  in  his  stn.w  hat,  slutnted  to  them  as  if  the  country 
were  nuule  large  on  purpose  to  shout  in.  He  checked  himself  long  enough  to 
stare  at  me,  open-mouthed,  then  dealt  his  oxen  a  resounding  thwack,  hard 
enough  to  take  otf  the  skin,  upon  which  they  instantly  .set  o\\  down  tiie  hill  at 
a  mn.  In  a  minute  or  two  I  passed  a  man  who  wjus  at  work  in  his  garden 
]tatch.  He  leaned  on  his  hoe  to  watch  me  till  I  had  passed  the  next  turning  of 
the  road.  At  each  cottage  the  wonu'U  folk  peen-d  (mt  through  tiu'  hall-drawn 
blinds.      In  this  luanner  I  entered  ()gun(piit,  the  observed  of  all  observers. 

(•gunquit  is  certainly  the  prettiest  seashore  village,  as  villages  go  here, 
l»etwcen  Kittery  I'oint  and  Portland  Head.  When  I  hatl  walked  thntugh  it  I 
felt  the  temptation  to  turn  about  and  walk  b;ick  again  quite  too  strong  to  be 
resist<'d,  even  after  the  long  tramp  I  had  just  flnished.  It  used  to  Iw  said  that 
they  l>uilt  shijts  by  the  mile  in  Maine.  Here  I  saw  a  dwelling  that  would 
justify  the  transfer  of  this  bit  of  jdciisantry  to  the  houses.  I  instinctively 
chri.stene<l  it  the  Long  H'>use  of  the  ()gun»piits. 

I'erkins'  Cove  is  one  of  those  charming  little  sea-nooks  deeply  scooped  out 
of  the  surrounding  ledges.     Forty  flshing-boats  go  out  from  it  to  the  jwljacejit 


<)(ji:xiiurr,  hald  iiicad,  and  that  siiokk. 


•3 


DKEI'-SEA    COIHISII. 


fiphinj,'-},M'oun(ls,  iuid  briiif,'  in  cargoes  worth  fii'tccu  thoiisaiid  dollars  cviM-y  year, 
to  Ik'  sold  l)y  jit'dlrrs  through  thf  country  round.  A  dozt-n  or  more  ot"  tliese 
boats  were  drawn  up  on  the  gravel  beach,  where  nuMi  in  sea-boots  and  sloiK'hed 
liats,  brown  and  bearded,  were  busy  taking  eare  of  their  day's  catch,  —  some 
carelessly  tossing  the  limp  and 
slimy  denizens  of  the  sea  upon 
the  clean  shingle  with  a  pitch- 
fork; some  splitting  them  with 
sharp-pointt'd  knives,  and  others 
standing  np  to  their  knees  in 
the  ]»alpitating  mass,  as  if  they 
liked  it.  Two  or  three  idlers 
were  S(piatted  about  on  their 
heels,  watching  every  movement  as  intently  as  if  it  were  an  altogether  novel 
experience;  and  to  be  frank,  I  soon  gave  myself  up  to  the  fascination  which 
everybody  has  felt  at  seeing  codfish  split  oi)en,  luiheaded,  and  tossed  into  a 
basket  at  the  rate  of  two  or  three  a  minute. 

One  of  these  toilers  of  the  sea  seenu'd  to  guess  my  tho\iglits ;  for  he  drew 
the  back  of  a  bloody  hand  across  his  mouth,  eyed  me  with  a  half-grin,  spat  on 
his  whetstone,  and  said,  as  he  proceeded  to  sharpen  his  knife,  "Dirty  work, 
Mister,  now  aint  it  ?  but  it  brings  clean  money  all  the  sanu*." 

Vol'  a  man  who  kee]»s  his  ears  ojieu  the  country  st(»re  is  the  ]tlace  of  all 
]»laces  to  get  at  the  life  of  a  community.  The  nuiltitudinous  character  of  a 
Maine  storekeeper's  stock  in  trade  may  be  guessed  from  the  following  catalogiu! 
of  items  which  1  copied  verbdtim  from  a  sign  conspicuously  displayed  near  a 
certain  railway  station:  ''Guns,  Confectionery,  Pressed  Hay,  Coffins  and 
Cask.'ts." 

Having  replaced  the  taveru-keep(U'  to  a  certain  extent,  as  the  purveyor  of 
local  intelligence,  the  shojikeeper  is  ex[»ected  to  deal  out  the  small  change  of 
local  gossij)  to  his  (tustomers;  and  no  nuui  could  hv  more  expert  than  he,  not 
even  exce[»ting  that  id)i(putous  person,  the  modern  rei)orter.  in  extracting 
information,  or  endu'llishing  it  for  daily  consumi)tion.  It  is  an  accomplishment 
for  which  I  have  the  most  jirofound  admiration  ;  for  though  country  jieople  in 
general  are  so  inordinately  in([uisitivi'  about  other  people's  affairs,  they  are  a])t 
to  be  exceedingly  ch)se  about  their  own. 

This  trait,  which  has  made  Yankee  impusitiveness  ]n'overbial,  is,  I  take  it, 
a  relic  of  the  inquisitorial  character  of  the  (dd  colonial  days,  when  every 
stranger  was  expected  to  give  an  account  of  himself,  or  be  set  down  as  a  sus- 
picious character.  It  was  I>en  Franklin  who  first  hit  upon  the  idi'a  of  fore- 
stalling this  cross-t!xaniiuation  in  detail  by  (tailing  all  the  bystanders  about  him, 
whenever  he  ai'rived  at  an  inn,  and  addressing  them  as  follows  :  "  My  friends, 
I  am  lien  Franklin,  a  i)rinter  of  riiiladelphia.  I  am  travelling  to  collect 
money  due  for  my  newspaper,  and  believe  in  the  Christian  religion.'' 

The  guilelessness  of  some  of  these  people  has  often  reminded  nu;  of  Turenne's 


J 


74 


TIIK    I'lXK-TKKE  COAST. 


!« 


cel<'l)ratt'(l  reiiuirk  about  Sully,  that  if  sonic  one  were  to  wring  las  nose,  milk 
would  How  out.  A  very  good  friend  of  mine  once  told  me  of  a  man  who  came 
into  his  store  to  buy  some  split  peas,  which  h»'  proposed  to  plant  in  order  that 
he  might  raise  some  for  family  us»',  as  he  had  tried  autl  liked  them.  AVithin 
an  hour  of  my  arrival  at  Ogunciuit,  I  myself  had  accosted  a  man  whom  I  met 
in  the  road  (tarrying  an  unusually  large  last  year's  hornets'  nest  in  his  hand.  To 
the  question  of  how  many  of  the  insects  he  supposed  the  hive  had  contained,  he 
replied,  after  turning  it  over  critically,  "  AlM)ut  three  ([uarts." 

A  keen  sense  of  the  humorous,  with  aptness  in  illustration,  drawn  fnmi 
observation  in  their  own  sphere,  is  another  distinguishing  trait.  I  was  ]u-esent 
at  a  discussion  among  some  villag*  philosophers,  al'  ^  a  wedding  recently 
solemnized  in  the  neighborhood.     The  groom  was  dc  \  as  being  as  poor  as 

a  church-mouse ;  so  that  the  uni(ui  of  hearts  did  Uv  ,iiise  a  golden  future. 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  said  one  of  these  gray  beards;  "tew  i)igs  allers  dooa  bctter'n 
one." 

Hut  a  serpent  has  entered  this  Eden.  I  found  that  even  here  the  farmers 
were  seiiiiig  ott"  their  land  to  capitalists  by  the  Imndred  acres  in  a  lump.     One 

goodnum's  face  expanded  in  a  broad  grin  when  he 
said  that  nolnxly  wanted  to  buy  his  good  land, 
but  everybo«ly  was  crazy  after  his  poorest.  They 
might  have  the  "  veew  "  and  welcome,  he  said  ;  he 
would  "heave"  that  in.  When  I  asked  him  some 
(piestions  alxjut  the  loiiality  itself,  he  disposed  of 
it  witli  a  monosyllable,  as  too  trivial  a  thing  to 
dwell  upon,  and  inunediately  changed  the  subject 
to  the  i»rice  of  lai»d,  showing  a  familiarity  with 
the  jargon  of  Wall  Street  and  State  Stre«'t  that 
was  (piite  surprising.  He  wanted  to  know  how 
prices  were  going  at  York,  and  whether  it  was  true  that  four  acres  had  just  been 
sold  at  Eastern  I'oint  for  sixteen  thousand  dollars.  In  short,  he  had  become  a 
full-Hedged  land  spe(!ulator,  to  whom  his  old  occupation  was  already  grown  dis- 
tasteful, and  his  smock  frock  a  badge  of  servitude. 

But  apart  from  the  enhanced  value  of  these  shore  lands,  the  farmers  are 
distinctly  benefited  in  the  inca-eased  demand  for  farm  jjroduce  of  every  kind, 
for  which  tlu'y  now  get  ready  cash  instead  of  "  store  pay,"  as  fornu'rly.  The 
storekeepers  also  find  better  profit  in  catering  to  the  wants  of  thesis  birds  of 
passage,  from  whose  plumage  every  one  considers  it  a  duty  to  pluck  a 
feather. 

The  highest  hill-top  on  which  we  stop  to  breathe,  and  let  the  cool  bree^o 
blow  over  us,  commands  a  wide  prospect  of  Wells  Bay  again.  Change  could 
hardly  be  more  striking  or  complete,  or  more  refreshing  to  the  eye,  for  all  is 
light  and  sunshine  luu-e  after  the  darkness  and  gloom  of  those  fearful  crags. 
The  coast  is  no  longer  encased  in  granite,  but  has  now  put  on  a  softer  and 
warmer  raiment,  as  if  nature  herself  h^l  called  a  truce. 


.\X    UUKilNAI.    WI»OIK"rT. 


(XilNtinT,    MALI)    lIKAi),    AND  THAT   SIloKK. 


!•> 


From  the  mouth  of  tho  Of,'un(iuit  River,* — here  clipjH'd  to  '(Jmikit,  —  wliidi 
fulls  into  tilt'  st'ii  iit  oiu'  end  of  tlie  vill:ij,'e,  iind  makes  its  harbor,  the  short- 
sweeps  j,'rand]y  round  till  it  is  eut  apart  l)y  the  deep  furrow  of  the  Kennelmnk, 
where  tlit^  roek  formiitit)ii  bej^ins  aj^ain. 

Stretclied  out  before  us  iuvitiu<,'ly,  beneath  a  tremulous  golden  mist,  are  the 
lojif^  beaches  of  Oj^untpiit  and  Wells,  extenilint;  together  for  four  miles,  an  ocean 
amphitheatre,  with  an  irregular  heap  of  dazzling  sand-dunes  thn)wn  up  bidiind 
them,  anil  long  levels  of  salt-marsii  behintl  these  again.  These  beaches  are  nearly 
always  wrapped  in  a  warm,  lumintius  vapor  through  which  the  dull  glitter  from 
myriad  partiides  of  sand  semis  scintillations  of  light  to  a  great  distance.  And 
such  breakers  I  It  is  something  to  see,  as  we  do  here,  whole  troops  of  them 
advancing  like  prancing  horsemen  to  the  (diarge,  three  lines 
deep  and  all  at  once,  toward  the  s» ore,  up  which  they  Hing 
themselves  in  mad  riot,  rearing  anil  plunging,  and  trampling 
each  other  tlown  with  all  the  action  and  energy  of  living 
things.  lUit  best  of  all  is  the  refreshment  that  the  sight  never 
fails  to  afford  us  even  after  the  most  wearisome  of  jaunts,  the 
coolness  it  brings  in  its  train,  and  the  sensation  of  real  pleas- 
ure we  feel  at  merely  h)oking  on. 

Some  years  ago  there  w.as  a  sad  accident  at  Ogumpiit  Beatdi 
by  which  four  persons  lo.st  tlu'ir  lives  whih;  bathing.  An  ounce  of  prevention  is 
always  better  than  a  pound  of  cure.  Whenever  there  is  u  heavy  surf  running 
on  till?  beach,  there  is  always  an  undertow  that  is  mf)re  or  less  dangerous  even 
to  good  swimmers,  till  the  sea  goes  down  again.  Want  of  knowledge  of  this 
fact  has  caused  the  sacrifice  of  many  valuable-  lives  first  and  last,  Imt  in  the 
case  rtd'erred  to  it  is  said  that  the  unfortunate  bathers  w»»re  warned  of  their 
peril  beftu'e  they  set  out  for  their  fatal  plunge  in  the  surf.  Once  within  its 
grasp,  they  were  (piickly  swe|)t  beyond  the  reach  of  assistance. 

At  Oguntpiit  Ct>rner  there  is  a  more  diri>ct  road  than  the  one  we  have  been 
travelling  together,  of  which  it  behooves  us  to  say  a  wortl,  because  all  travtdlers 
coming  from  the  east  who  may  wish  to  ascend  Agamenticus  —  antl  who  <loes  not '.' 
—  need  to  know  that  this  is  their  rtmte.  It  is  the  old  post  ami  ttdegraph  mail 
to  Portsmouth.  At  the  distance  of  a  mile  from  the  Corner  a  cross-road  takes 
one  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  whence  the  ascent  is  easily  made. 


OI,I>-TIMF.   I  TKNSII,S«. 


. !  'i 


I 


w^ 


,. ..     -    »•  " 


>'%  ',. , 


*^V-52a,  UUyl''   .t**---^-- 


3»ii*  AAW**>vTW''*i  i-  •"^r.- 
'  ^•ti-'^*':  .^'■■*l»6V^?''*^<i;  '■'  »V>*iS>»<5^'£  ."iT'-S^.^'i'v'^  '»!r«'<t;i\:^  •:r?.'"%«»**''i.''  •"■    -. 


^^•r,.. 


GREAT    IIII.L    IIKADLAXn,    WEI.I.f*    MAY. 


CHAITKK    V. 


A    TUKN    AUorNI)    WKM.S    H.\V. 
"  HiTi-  tivmbHug  billows  uiiirked  the  coast  with  winging  foam."  —  HruNw. 

WKLLS  is  oiu'  of  tlio  oldest  of  Maine  resorts,  thon<,'U  it  lius  been  los- 
ing; j;roun(l  of  lute  years  to  some  of  tiie  later  claimants  for  iiopular 
ri'cuLrnition. 

r>ut  it  will  rise  again.  It  must  rise,  because  nowhere  vvithin  the  limits  of  a 
single  township  do  we  find  so  extensive  an  oitean  t'ntntage.  with  so  many  admi- 
rable building  sites,  as  here  in  neglected  Wells. 

I'pon  leaving  Oguncjuit,  (»ne  finds  himself  at  the  beginning  of  a  long,  sandy 
terrace  descu'uding  by  a  gentle  slope  to  the  waterside,  where  the  beach  is,  and 
the  sea,  and  throwing  wide  ojjcn,  as  it  were,  throughout  the  six  miles  of  curving 
shore  that  we  follow  without  once  quitting  it,  a  large  and  exceedingly  enjoyable 
prospect  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

At  the  farther  end  of  this  long  plain  the  north  shore  is  seen  gliding  out  to 
sea  again. 

The  three  villages  and  two  parish  churches  of  Wells  are  strung  out  along 
the  one  street  that  forms  part  of  the  coast  highway,  nmking  the  town  look 
much  larger  than  it  really  is.  jNIost  of  the  hou-ses  stand  at  the  upper  side  of 
the  road,  so  giving  to  all  a  share  in  the  noble  ocean  view ;  while  the  fields 
belonging  to  them  slope  away  from  the  lower  side,  and  when  green,  nuike  as 
70 


A   TURN   AROUND   WKLLS  HAV. 


I  t 


bciiutiful  a  natural  osidanado  as  one  rould  wish  to  see.  Tho  soil  is,  howpvcr. 
too  saiuly  to  he  vt'ry  productive,  thoii^di  loiij;  occupution  lias  brou^'ht  it  iiit(»  a 
condition  tliat  at  first  sij^lit  favors  the  idi-a  of  conit'ort  and  thrift  to  the  owners. 
Still,  tlit'rc  art'  tar  too  many  I'vidcnccs  of  untlirift  to  escape  notice,  too  few  indi- 
catinj^  inipntvenieiit  or  contidenco  in  the  futurt;  to  jnstify  tho  Ixdief  that  Wells 
is  holding'  its  own.  • 

I  had  almost  for;;otten  to  mention  th(>  extensive  salt-marshes,  which  skirt 
the  entire  shore  '"'•out.  antl  of  which  every  I'arm  has  a  portion. 

These  f,'cneral  irures  indicatt;  clearly  enoiij,di,  perhaps,  what  first  brou^'ht 
settlers  to  Wells.      I'he  salt-marshes   otfureil   immediate  subsistence  for  their 


!  " ! 


TIIK    SKTTI.KU  S    <  lllMNKV-( OltM.lt. 


cattle,  while  such  a  larfjo  body  of  arable  land,  as  little  fertile  as  it  looks,  must 
have  .seenunl  an  oasis  to  men  who  Avcre  accustomed  to  the  ji;aunt  and  rocky 
hills  of  York.  To  tin  se  considerations  should  be  adde<l  the  valuable  mill- 
powers  furnished  by  sex  >ral  rapid  streams,  and  the  tine  timber  ready  grown  to 
the  millwright's  hand. 

It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  at  least  some  of  the  first  inhabitants  found 
their  way  here  from  York,  tliough  it  is  known  that  the  body  of  settlers  came 
from  Exeter,  New  Hampshire,  with  Uev.  John  Wheelwright.'  who  has  been  gen- 
erally looked  upon  as  the  founder  of  Wells,  inasnuudi,  jilso,  as  the  first  recorded 
grant  of  lands  within  the  vown's  limits  was  made  to  him  tand  his  associates  in 
IMS.     Bourne-  thinks  that  Edmund  Littletield,''  who  was  the  progenitor  of 


ill 


irn- 


7S 


TiiK  iMNK-rwr.i';  ('«)Ast. 


I 


all  tliat  hear  liis  naiiu*  in  W«'lls,  camt'  luiPc  as  early  as  1(»41.  Mv.  was  a  iin'in- 
Imt  of  Wlieclwri^'lit's  (diiii'ch.  Joliii  (Soocli,  Iroin  wlioiii  all  of  tliat  naiiir  in 
Wells  art!  )U'S('t'ii(lt'(l,  caiin"  linm  ^'ll|■k.  NVilliaiii  Coif  \v:is  aiiollitrr  early  settler. 
All  these  names  are  imlelildy  staiii|ii'(l  upon  tlie  loealities  oi'  Wells. 

When  we  were  at  Old  \'ork,  we  IVlt  a  simenf  rennet  at  the  al»senee  ol'  all 
tliosj*  material  evidences  from  wliieli  to  reettnstrut't  the  life  of  l»yK*'i"'  days. 
'I'he  historian  of  Wells  does  .something  to  meet  this  want,  l»y  allowinj^  us  a 
peep  into  the  privaev  of  the  first  settler's  house  and  honu*.  "  We  enter  the 
kitchen,  which  is  also  the  sittin^'-room  and  parlor.  In  lookin<;  around,  we  dis- 
cover a  tahle,  a  pewter  pot,  a  haii;^'er,  a  small  mortar,  a  drippin^'-pan,  and  a 
skillet;  no  cntckery,  tin,  or  j^lassware ;  no  knives,  forks,  or  spoons;  not  a  chair 
to  sit  on.  The  house  contains  liut  two  more  rooms,  in  each  of  which  we  find 
one  lied,  a  l)lank«'t,  and  a  chest.  We  have  lieen  throu^jhthe  house.  And  this 
is  the  house  of   I'Mmuiid  ii'ttletield,  the  richest  man  in  the  town." 

'i'he  ocean  is  the  only  tliinj;  really  nnchan^jed   here.     'I'lirou^diout  its  whole 
extent  Wells  wears  the  unniistak;:lile  appearance  of  a  town  i^'one  to  seed  ;  and, 
without  irreverence,  the  same  luay  he  said  of  the  family  grave- 
yards one  is  constantly  p;ussinj(  on  the  roatl. 

I  think  there  is  nothing  so  shockiie^'  to  the  feelings  of 
most  people  as  unconcealed  insensiliility  to  the  care  of  the 
dead.  !  know  it  is  apt  to  create  an  uniavtualile  impression 
of  a  place  <»r  a  people  hard  to  eradicate,  since  even  liarltarians 
manifest  ;.;reat  veiu'ration  for  tht!  ashes  of  their  departed  ones, 
an<l  try  in  every  way  to  <^uard  the  place  of  sepulture  from 
desecration.  What,  then,  must  Ite  the  impn'ssion  caused  liy 
seein;;  liurial  lots  with  iiroken-down  fences,  or  none  at  all; 
lieail-stones  sticking'  up,  here  and  ihere,  out  of  the  open 
commons,  like  unrei^Mrdeil  stumps;  or  cattle  trampling'  the 
j;raves  nndtu'foot  at  will  '.'  Such  neglect,  is  more  than  a  fault: 
it  is  a  crime. 

\'es;  the  deatl  ^,'o  oio"kly  here.  It,  will  hardly  l»e  liclievi'il  that  on  a  puMie 
street,  in  a  nei■dd^orin^,'  villa^'c.  there  is  to  Im^  seen  t.<i-day  a  hurial  lot  which  the 


I.  A. Ml-, 


thrifty  owner   has   turned    into  a  heuyar 


mysc 


If   h 


IVe 


re(|i 


lently 


seen 


m 


fowls  roostini^  op  the  head-sv,ones.  There  was  no  remonstrance  that,  I  have  e..'r 
heard  of.  In  another  place,  not  far  from  V\w  first,  aciti/en  had  puilcd  up  all 
the  head-stones  from  a  lot,  of  his,  and  theu  plou<{hed  and  planted  over  the 
l^ravcs.  In  this  instance,  some  indications  of  distrust  caused  their  rest.orat ion. 
In  still  another,  a  tomW  wils  entererl,  skulls  taken  out,  and  thrown  ahont  liy 
rude  villa^'e  Intys  in  their  play.  And  all  these  things  are  matters  of  coiumon 
knowledj^e. 

As  we  pursue  our  route  a'i<»n;^  the  hi^diroad,  two  vi<,'orous  mill-streams  —  tlin 
(^i(unipiit  and  the  Wclihannet — drop  down  frt.ai  the  Muffs.  c\it  their  way 
tliidU)^'n  the  plain  to  the  nnirshes,  and  serpentine  through  these  to  the  sea.  It 
was  on  the  V''elihannct  that  Kilmiind  liittlefi  >ld  liuilt  the  first  saw-mill  in  Wells. 


|l 


A    TL'RN    Amn:NI)    WKLLS    HAV. 


79 


IIIK    I.OMJ.Y    t.K.VVK. 


Th«!  liij,'''  Mnff  iiImivc  tlic  roiid  is  tlm  siU;  ol"  tlm  mill  j^iirrison  of  colonial  tiiiics, 
(»ii«'  of  tJH'  hall"-4io/.«'ii  lallyiiij^-poiiits  for  tlm  scattered  settlers,  in  wliich  tliey 
\v«'r«'  <»l't('n  <lriven  to  take  reluj^e. 

The  street  now  keeps  on  the  even 
tenor  of  its  way  till  wv.  conu!  first  t(» 
the  «;ross-roa<l  leailin^'  down  to  Wells 
r.each,  the  lionses  of  which  we  Ijave 
kept  in  si^ht  for  the  last  half-honr,  uiid 
next  to  the  one  peenliarly  interesting,' 
spot,  historically  speaking,',  in  all  W<dls. 
The  site  of  the  Storer  f;arrison  of  th<^ 
old  l''renchand  Indian  War  pctriod  is  oidy 
identilied  now  liy  the  nu^U'  of  an  old  wall,  solidly  liuilt  of  lar^'c,  nidiewn  stones 
(da  kind  dilTcreiit  from  any  found  in  the  nei^ddiorhood,  showing  that  they  were 
hrouidd.  here  for  the  purpose  to  which  timy  wcue  lirst  put.  A  little  hack  from 
the  street  there  is  a  <;apacious  two-story  farndiouse  of  < pi ite  attractive  appear- 
ance, with  a  K<'id'le  sl<»pe  extendinj^f  down  toward  the 
river,  hehind  it,  and  a  K^'lv  l»<»idercd  hy  a  pine  ;^rovc  at 
its  easterly  side.  This  k"".V  prohahly  lij,Mireil  in  tht^ 
attack,  to  the  di.satlvantaK'-  <'f  the  garrison,  whitdi  stood 
within  a  }{unshot  (d'  it. 

Till!  didene,(!  of  this  lonely  frontier  post  is  one  of  the 
Mi.<  TAi  i.KH.  niost  notaltle  events  in  tlu!  annals  of  Indian  warfare.    Th(f 

conditions  were  nowise  dilTercnt  from  those  under  which  other  },Mrrisons  had 
fallen,  except  that  the  man  who  defended  this  one  was  a  soMier,  every  inch  of 
him.  We  have  all  the  more  reiLSon  to  regret  tint  di.sapp(;arance  of  every  vestigu 
<d'  the  ancient  structure, 
a:.,'ainst  which  the  waves 
of  tire  and  Idood  dashed 
themsidves  in  vain. 

It  was  in  .lune,  Ki'.M. 
that  Captain  •lames  Ton- 
verse  wa"  posted  in 
Slorer's  (garrison  w'Vh 
thirty-live  or  forty  .sol- 
diers, part  of  whom  had 
hut  just  joined  him, 
when  the  chief,  Moxus, 
assaulted  it  at  tlu;  liead 
of  two  hundred  war- 
riors, ex|M'ctin^;  an  easy 


A    KLANKKH. 


eon<|uest. 


Th 


a.ssa 


ult 


WiiH  hravely  rejmlsed,  und   M(»x\is  drew  off,  swearing  to  Ih'  revenged.     Whnn 
Mado«'ksiwando,  the  iV'uohsirot  (ihiet,  heard  of  it,  he  la\ighed  loufllv.     "  Hij,"  HJiid 


i 


80 


TlIK    I'INK-TKKK   'OAST. 


tlif  cliicf,  "my  brother  Moxiis  li;is  inisstMl  it  now;  Imt  imxt  yciir  I'll  yo  luyscir 
iiiid  liiivo  tli«!  (!()}{  Converse  out  of  liis  dcii." 

M:iilock:iw:iii<lo  iii;i<l<;  f^ood  liis  tlin>:it  in  piirt  Ity  (^oiiiiii^  th*>  next  .Iiiim*,  iit 
tlh'  IkmiI  of  lour  or  tivi'  liiiiiilri-il  \v:ii  riors,  :is  hi*  liad  .s:ii<l  In-  wmilil.  Moxiis  ami 
l'i^<'n-iii*>t  wri'f  with  liiiii.  Tin-  ( ':iii:iili:iii  |>,ii-tis:iii  I'oi'tiifiii,  iiiid  the  iiiirnii 
Siiiiit  Oiistiii,  who  Wiis  liy  hirth  a  ^'fiit li'inaii,  and  a  savant'  Iroiii  <dioi(M-,  also 
iiiaridii'd  witli  tint  Indians  to  this  (Micountcr,  which  unr  and  all  nia<l<*  no  doiilit 
ol'  rndiu^'  victoriously. 

To  o|t|»osc  this  onslanj^ht,  (!onvcrsc  conld  nnistcr  Init  liltccn  regular  soldiers 
ol"  the  ijarrisoii,  in  whom,  il  wc  slmidd  add  such  cd'  the  iidiaiiitants  as  had 
Hou^^ht  safety  in  the  thick  walls  and  sloni  arms  of  their  little  I'ortress,  the  de- 
fenders could  still  count  themselves  hut  a  hantlful. 
iMutunately  for  them,  however,  two  sloops  arrived 
on  the  '.Mh,  with  fourteen  soldiers  more,  hrin^^in;^ 
ii|i  the  ^'arris(»n's  com|ilenient  of  men  to  twenty- 
nine  a^cainst  an  army. 

it  was  m»t,  hoiVever,  to  he  a  hattle  of  nund»ers. 
I»ut  one  of  c(iur;.^(e,  endurance,  and  skill.  The  I  wu 
sloops  were  anchored  otT  in  tlie  chainiel,  within 
)iistiii-.  hot  of  the  shore,  and  as  <"onver.se  had  fully 
mailc  up  his  niimt  never  to  yiehl  while  a  man  was 
leltalile  to  lire  a  shot  or  load  a  musket,  the  cundtat 
])romised  to  he  an  ohstinate  one  on  iHith  sides. 

The  nii;ht  (d  tin  <.Mh  was  an  aiismus  one  for 
the  lielea>,'nered  i^arrison.  .\s  soon  as  it  was  lii^dil, 
contrary  to  their  usual  custom,  the  Indians  Iic^^mu  the  \\'^\\\.  with  reckless 
hravado  hy  showini,'  ihem.selves  to  the  ).farrison  in  a  hody,  also  slntulinj,' out  their 
terriltle  war-cries,  and  pouring  in  .a  harndess  volley  upon  the  hesiej^cd,  as  if 
they  expecliMJ  to  linish  the  affair  l)\  a  sim|ile  display  of  forci- alone,  ('onverse's 
men,  liciu}^  well  slndtered.  made  every  shot  tidl,  .so  that  the  savaijes  were  soon 
driven  hai-k  to  cover.  'I'hey  now  liejfan  to  see  the  sort  of  man  they  had  to 
deal  with.  Ilavin;.;  failed  in  their  tirst  attempt,  they  next  turned  their  atten- 
tion ttt  the  sloops,  which  promised  them  an  «'a.sy  prey  ;  yet  in  spite  cd"  a  j,'idlin,i^ 

•ire  ponri'd    in  upon  them  at  (dose  <piarters,  the  crews  also  sut vtlt'tl  in  heatinj^ 

otT  the  enemy  in  their  turn,  .so  that  when  ni;^dd.  put  an  end  to  the  ti^htiu'^',  our 
men  had  cvi-rywhere  held  their  own. 

'IMie  savages  kept  up  a  droppin;.;  tire  throu,L;hout  the  nif^ht,  dcsi}.,rneil  to  hold 
the  l>esie<red  on  the  alert.  In  the  morning'  tl>*'.V  a^'ain  mustered  for  a  tinal  and 
ilecisive  assault.  At  a  >,MV<Mi  Hij,'nal  tliey  made  ;i  rush  towani  the  f,'arrison,  yell- 
in;;  and  firinj^  as  they  cann*  on,  like  liends.  Converse  eotdly  let  them  conn* 
within  pistol-shot.  .X^^ain  the  loopholes  were  manned  with  stout  hearts  ami 
steady  hands.  Only  one  nmn  siiowcd  the  white  feallier,  who.  when  he  had  st;  '■,. 
nwred  out  .sonw  W(»rd.s  altoiit  surrendering',  the  captain  sternly  tiireutened  witli 
instant  dfuth  if  he  siiould  dare  to  iu'catiie  that  word  a^ain. 


i.kai>i;n  <  v-imknt. 


A     11  UN    AKUlNl)    WKI.LS    IJAV 


81 


For  a  tiling  the  firiiij;  was  l»risk.  (Jonv«?rst!'.s  iihmi  shot  from  tin;  Hankers  cfi- 
l<Mi|tlioli's  :is  i':i.st  as  tltry  rouM  taki;  aim,  tin;  womini  of  tlu;  garrison  showing 
tlu'iii  iui  examph'  of  tirmiifss  by  loadiii)^  tin;  muskets,  ami  cvt'ii  tiriuK  t'lx'iii  at 
tin-  nifiny.  Aj^aiii  tlir  iliscomtitnl  assailants  fell  l)a<"k  out  of  ran^ff,  itrcscntly 
to  put  in  rxfiMition  a  si-f(in<l  and  more  dangerous  attempt  upon  the  sloops. 
For  this  purpose  a  lire-raft  was  hurriedly  put  tot^ether,  and  as  soon  as  the  tide 
HiTvetl,  it  was  siioved  olT  into  tlm  stream,  to  drift  down  tipon  the  vess«ds.  'I'his 
jM'ril,  t«M),  was  providentially  averted,  as  the  wind  soon  drove  the  raft  ashore, 
where  it  hurned  harmlessly  out.  With  this  effort  tiie,  Ix-siej^ers  had  exlunisted 
tln'ir  last  resource.  .Many  warri»Ms  had  fallen  in  the  tw(»  attacks,  while  the 
Kn^lish  had  lost  hut  two  nn-n  in  all.  Cunverse  now  dared  the  red  and  white 
Kava^es  to  another  trial,  hut  they  wer«  t(H)  thoroii^hly  iH-ateit  to  indulge  even 
in  tlieir  hal>itual  strain  of  hra^^j^adoeio.  During  the  u\^ht  they  marched  otf  the 
way  they  eanu'. 

<'otton  Mather  very  neatly  .says  of  this  affair,  that  the  chiy  was  afxtut  the 
lonp'st  of  the  year,  as  <'onver.se's  dtdence  was  the  hravest  deed  cd"  the  war.* 

Itourne  riMuarks  that  "it  st'enis  stran>,'e  "  our  ancestors  ^(ave  so  little  tlutu^ht 
iilMiut  transmitting'  the  names  of  those  who  took  part  in  this  nu'moralde  defence 
to  their  descendants.  We  mi^ht  add  that  it  seems  stranf,'er  still  that  the 
descendants  should  suffer  every  v«'stij,'e  (d"  the  hrave  ileeds  of  their  ancestors 
to  jKiss  from  tht!  si^dit  of  men. 

There  are  one  or  two  incidents  worth  relatin;^  her«'  as  K"'"K  t**  show  the  sort 
of  lives  that  these  jM-ttple  led,  or  rather  how  truly  it  mi).,'ht  he  said  of  them  that 
they  earned  tlieir  lives  in  their  hands  from  day  to  day,  and  from  hour  to  hour. 

Ordinary  tnivellers,  for  instance,  ha<l  to  he  conducted  hy  an  arnuMl  es(M»rt  from 
place  t«»  placi',  hut  this  favor  could  only  he  granted,  of  eojirse,  in  cases  of  real 
urj,'encv.  So  did  c«turiers  wiio 
riNle  |M»st-haste  (»n  public;  hnsi- 
iie.sH.  It  was  no  uncommon 
tiling  for  oni>  to  he  found  dead 
and  .scal|K'd  in  the  roail.  HcK* 
u'lar  jMist-routes  were  not  estah- 
li.shed  in  Maine  before  the  year 
1711,  letters  iM-ini^  usually  in- 
trusted to  <-asuaI  travidlers  f«»r 
eonveyanee.  Hut  wluMi  tlu! 
routes  could  oidy  be  traversed 

at  the  risk  of  life  or  lindi,  a  do^  wiiH  sometimes  trained  to  the  dan^'crons  task. 
An  authentic  instance  is  found  in  whiidi  the  faithful  animal  was  shot  and 
killed,  while  goin^,'  his  round,  by  some  prowling  Havag<?. 

.S«»,  t«M»,  «N'casions  of  rejoicing  w«'re  ofttinu's  turie-d  into  .seasoiiH  of  mourning. 
I'eidiallow*  relates  an  occurrence  of  this  kind  which  happened  at  a  wedding  in 

Wells.     The  storv  runs  thus;  The  bri'le's  lather.  Captain  .bdin   Wl Iwiight, 

being  one  of  the  notables  id  the  village,  his  friends  turned  o>it  in  great  numbers 


Ttn:  MAii.-rAiiiilKii. 


82 


rilK   IMNK-TIIKK   COAST. 


to  witness  the  eerenicmy,  and  the  festivitit-s  were  of  iiii  cxccedin^'ly  jovial  char- 
acter. Mat  there  were  otlier  ^ncsts  n«)t  lar  oil  who  had  conif  let  lh«*  wedding 
unhidden.  After  the  nuptial  knt)t  had  Ihh'U  tied,  and  tint  company  was  ahout 
separating  to  their  homes,  two  horses  were  found  to  he  missing.  Some  of  the 
party  went  to  look  for  the  animals.  They  had  gone  Imt  a  few  rcnls  away 
fntm  the  hou.se,  when  .several  gunshots  were  iieiird  in  (piick  succ-ession.  'I'heir 
meaning  was  oidy  t(M»  well  iniderstood.  'I'lie  Indians  had  laid  a  trap  into  which 
tliu  whites  had  fallen.     A  do/en  of  the  guests  instantly  mounted  and  rode  otT  to 

I  the  re.s«!ue,  the  hridegroom  with  the  rest,  siiure  n(»w  or 

never  wsus  the  time  to  show   himself  worthy  to  he  the 
son-in-law  of  such  a  father. 

This  |)arty  also  fell  into  an  amltuscade,  from  whicii  tlu^ 
skulking  .savages  lired  as  the  trooj)  pa.s.s«'d  at  a  gallop, 
killing  one  man  outright,  and  unhorsing  all  the  rest.  All 
those  who  were  unhurt  got  safely  (df,  however,  except 
the  unlucky  iuidegroom,  who  thus  siiddeidy  found  him- 
self in  the  clutches  of  ii  gang  of  grinning  savages  instead 
<»f  the  arms  of  his  hride.  Of  the  lirst  party  two  were  shot 
de:ul  on  the  spot,  the  rest  taken. 

The  First  I'arish  nuieting-hoiise  of  Wells,  a  conspic- 
uous hindmark  of  this  shore,  was  iiiinit  i>y  the  Indians 
in  the  year  Hi*.)!^,  and  relmilt  in  Ki'.HJ.  (Jeorge  liiirroughs, 
who  was  hanged  at  Salem  for  heing  a  wizard,  preached 
her.'  just  heiore  that  terrihle  madness  seized  upon  .New 
Knglaiid  which  tiiriieil  ludtherV  hand  against  hrothcr. 

The  Indiid'  in  supernatural  agencies  was  then  s<»  firmly 
r<M)ted  among  the  people,  that  he  would  h;ive  lieeii  a  hold 
man    indeed    who   deiiKMl    their   active    lutiuvention    in 
human  alVairs. 
^/W^"'i*iy^  There  is  a  traditional  acM-ount  of   Ihirroughs'  arrest 

""^ViSCaKL 'J -oi^-.^   ^||.j^  jj^    worthy  lA'  a  place  hy   the  side  of    those  weird 
NATi!KAi.  i-TNot-H.        legciids   for  wliicli  tlic   IMack    Forest    and   the   Narz  are 

famous. 
AcH'ording  to  it,  the  oHieers  \vh<»  were  taking  burroughs  t.o  Salem  ('oiieeived 
the  idea  that  the  (h*vil  might  play  them  .some  trick  if  they  took  the  road  men 
usually  travelh'd ;  .so,  thinking  to  outwit  him,  they  started  olT  with  their  pri.s- 
oiier  to  the  next  settlement  hy  unfreipieiited  paths. 

'i'hey  had  just  hiiried  themselves  in  the  ilepths  of  the  h)rest,  when  a  fiMJoiis 
thunder-storm  hurst  u|Htn  them.  Sutlden  darkness  .spread  itself  in  their  path. 
The  wind  howled,  the  lightning  Hashed,  and  the  thunder  pealed  as  if  the  hay 
of  Doom  were  indeed  ccune.  ('onvincetl  that  their  prisoner  had  really  called 
Satan  to  his  aid  in  order  t«)  compass  their  destruction,  the  terrified  olliceis  of 
the  law  now  gave  themselves  up  for  lost.  Presently  a  terrific  cra.di,  that 
.seemed  splitting  earth  and  sky  asumh'r,  hrought  horses  and  riders  to  a  stundstill, 


A   TI:KN    AUOluNI)    WKLLS    IJAY. 


Hli 


trciiiMiii^  with  frij^lit.  Kor  soinc  iiiiiiutcs  they  wcn^  hliiidcd  by  tli<?  Hiush.  Tlu'ii 
ii  new  tt'iTor  s('i/,»'(l  tliciii.  As  if  Ifur  li;ul  iiidcu'd  },'ivi'ii  tlicin  willy's,  tla;  horses 
spninj^  iorwiird  n'^j[:irdh!ss  of  whip  or  spur.  And  now  the  tcrritit-d  ridtM's  IVlt 
tlicmsjdves  lM)rn«  siionj;  with  tluf  spcMfd  ol'  the  wind.  ThiMi*  sU^eds  had  yichh-d 
to  the  wi/iird's  s|Mdl,  :ind  were  tlyinj^  throu^^di  the  iiir  without  a  sound,  us  he 
shonhl  }{uid*' tlicin.     <  Mi  thry  went,  as  it'  hislifd   Ity  invisihh^  liands,  until  willi 


i\u:   piwsiiif^  away  of   tin;  .stonu   i\n'  sp(^ll 


was 


hrokrii   and   a   |ihire   of   safety 


reacrlu'il.  It  is  saiil  tiiat  tlie  otliecrs  wure  .so  unnerved  when  they  dismounted 
tliat  th(^  prisoner  nii^dit  easily  havi;  anuht  his  csirape.  At  his  trial  all  these  cir- 
(niiustan(r(>.s  wen;  hrou^^ht  forward  against  him  as  so  many  proofs  <d'  his  dealing 
with  the  Kvil  One. 

N'othinj^  else  (d'  iiit.erest  (h^tains  \is  in  Wells,  ilavin;^  come  to  the  end  of 
its  interminaltle  street,  we  pass  across  the  lioiindary  separatiii;^  it  from  Ivenne- 
hiuik,"  and  n^a(di  the  Mousam  River,'  in  two  lonely  uules  niiore. 

If  I    recollectt  right,  it  was  on  this  very  rojid  that  I  overheard  th»!  foll(»win(jj 


(M)lloi|uy  between  two  natives,  one  ol   whom  was  digj,'in^  in  liis  niiry  tudd 
potatoes,  and  the  other  critically  hiokini,'  on  ov(M'  the  b'tiec. 


for 


How 


s   taters 


"  'Taters '.' " 

"  N'es  ;   how's  'taters  ?  " 
"They  haint  none,  and  them's  rotten." 
"//that  .so'.'      .Miiu'"s  done  complcle." 

rotat»»-di_i,'i,'er,  slowly  raisiiij,'  himself  t(»  an  erect  posture,  "Did  you  perris- 
grec^ii  yourn '.' " 

"  No;   I  jest  mowed  tln^  tops  ofT." 

"  W'iud,"  resiimiiii;  his  di}j;,L,'in}^',  "  when  they  do  nit,  it's  the  biggest  oi»\s  that 


rots. 


After  turning  aside  to  exphue  Hart's  Meacih,"  lor  which  ( Jreat  Ihll  Headland 
is  the  landmark,  in  goin^  two  miles  further  wi;  arrive  at  the  lower  village  of 
Keiiiiebiink,  among  indisputable  evidemrii  that  the  summer  visitor  has  been 
before  us.      Here  is  still  another  fine  bea(di. 

Theitf  is  a  curious  thing  to  be  seen  on  what  now  goes  by  the  name  of 
Kennebunk  Ueaeh.  Miiuy  rods  Ixdow  the  present  high-water  mark  the  smooth 
floor  is  broken  by  what  at  lirst.  is  taken  to  be,  and  indeed  looks  like,  halidmried 
Ht«)nes  S(!atteii'd  about  tin;  polished  sands.  On  a  (doser  inspection  these  objects 
provo  to  hit  th«  .sumps  of  large  trees.  A  <iu(!J^r  pliic*;  this  for  triM>s  to  grow  in, 
is  it  not,  whore  tliero  are  ten  feet  of  salt  water  at  high  title'.*  In  one  sp(tt  the 
stumps  stand  about  in.  twos  and  threes,  Just  as  I  hey  wiuild  if  a  grove  were  cut 
<lown  and  th*^  stumps  left.  Upon  further  examination  it  is  noticed  that  clods 
of  bog  muck  are  still  a<lhering  to  the  n»ots.  Some  jieoph;  think  that  the  trees 
once  grew  when'  they  now  are;  and  if  they  are  right,  the  ground  must  have  sunk 
iH'iieath  them  many  feet,  thus  forjuing  the  beach  about  them  as  we  see  it  to-day. 
It  is  more  probable,  I  think,  that  in  sonuf  exeepti(uially  great  thtoding  of  the 
low  laud  here,  the  whole  grove  was  deta(died  from  the  bog  on  which  it  stood,  it 


84 


THE   PINK-TUKK   COAST. 


bciii^,'  in  this  miiniuM'  ronvcrtiMl  into  an  island,  and  th«Mi  floated  Ixxlily  off  to  its 
im-sfnt,  )i(»sition.  'riioii^li  of  rum  o(!('.iirr<MH!t',  such  Moating  islands  nw  not  with- 
out  priMMMlfiit.  ill  New  Kn^land. 

Tlid  trite  saying,',  that  it's  an  ill  wind  blows  nolnxly  K'""K  wiis  never  Itettep 
exemplified,  I  am  sure,  than  at't(!r  the  K'''''«^t  i^nU'.  ol'  March  \'J,  ISSH,  hy  which 
eonntless  hall'-lrozen  fishes,  of  all  sorts  known  to  these  waters,  wer«  tossed  U|» 
on  th»^  hcach,  whcrt^  tln^  tide  left  them,  to  he  picked  up  hy  the  poor  people  ahtn;^ 
shore  for  food.  These  erciitures  had  1»ccn  lured  hack  from  the  deej)  sea  to 
their  summer  feedin^^-^nmnils  all  too  soon,  liy  a  week  of  warm  sunshine,  and  so 
had  lieen  eau^ht  hy  tli(^  j^ale  in  shallow  waters,  where  tlm  low  temperatiiri;  .soon 
henuinhed  them,  and  the  heavy  sea  threw  them  helpless  upon  tht;  shore. 

There  are  .several  old  wrecks  entcuiilM'd  amon^  the  sands  of  (iooclTs  Meaeli 
that  refuse  to  stay  hiiried,  hut  rise  from  their  ,t,'r;ives  after  each  ^'reat  j,'ale.  us 
if  its  mad  roar  werea  call  to  (rome  forth  and  show  its  power.  In  a  few  days  the 
sand  will  have  covered  thiua  again,  leaving  no  U'uva'  whatever  of  the  skeleton  in 
the  «doset. 


•  Ucv.  .Inlin  Wlicclwrinlil,  who  was  exiled  fruiii  MiiHSiiclniseU^  for  proacliiiiK  doctrincH 
<liHt!iHtcful  to  the  I'urilaii  extn-iiiists  ;  :i  Icailiii;^'  actor  in  the  n'lit;ioiis  revolt  iiiuiiKnratcil  )iy 
the  taiiioMs  Ann  lliitcliinHoii.  .Many  of  WiicclwriKlil's  people  followcil  him,  fiivit  to  Kxeter, 
then  to  Wells,  thoii;;h  lie  himself  afterwards  went  hack  to  Massachusetts,  hisKentence  having 
iNteii  revoked,  and  died  at  Salislniry  in  KtT'.i,  leaviin,' di-sceiidants  in  Wdls. 

'^  Kilward  K.  Itoiirne,  author  of  a  hislotv  of  Wills  and  Kennelnnik. 

"  Kdinund  liittlelield  is  said  hy  Itomne  to  have  Imilt  a  hav.-niill  on  the  Wehhaniiet  in  thJH 
year.  Settlers  iiad  pfi'mission  Kiveii  them  by  ThuniaH  (iorf;eH,  In  S-ptenilH-r,  KUl,  to  enter 
these  lands;  hut  it  is  not  likely  they  would  have  wintered  in  Wells,  tlioM;;li  they  may  have 
picked  out  sites  in  the  iiiitumn  and  com*-  hack  the  next  spriii;;,  Kll'i.  Wells  was  made  a  town 
ill  UliVI.  The  0)rniii|iiit  was  the  tirst  boundary  Itetwecn  York  and  Weils,  but  the  line  has  HJiice 
been  moved  farther  west. 

*  Wells  was  repeatedly  harried  in  the  later  wars,  losin;{  thirty-nine  inhahitants  at  one 
blow  in  I70.'(  ;  but  it  was  never  wholly  deserted.  The  best  account  of  the  attack  on  Storer^H 
garrison  is  found  in  ( 'otton  Mather's  "  Decenniuin   liiictuosum  "  ;  also  in  his  "  Ma'.;nalia." 

f' Samuel  I'cnhallow,  author  of  a  history  of  the  Indian  Wars.  I7<i;t-10.  WhcclwriKht's 
garrison,  where  this  alTair  took  jilace,  was  located  at  (iooch's  Corner. 

"  Keiinehunk  was  t4iken  from  Wells  in  1H2U.  Sctlh-mcnt  iN-gaii  at  the  falls  of  tlie  Mou- 
Ham,  where  is  located  one  of  the  handsomest  villaiu'cs  in  all  .Maine.  Ship-biiildiin;  and  ship- 
owning  bccanie  its  leading  industry,  till  that  business  received  its  death-blow.  Its  oeean 
front  is  so  cut  up  by  marshes,  creeks,  streams,  points,  mid  iM-aclies  lis  to  be  almost  valiielesM 
for  farming  |)urposi's.  though  it  is  now  beinvr  extensively  availed  of  as  a  scmmer  resort. 
Keniiebiink  is  the  birthplace  of  lion.  iin;;h  .McCulloch,  wlume  early  home  is  still  Htaiidiiig 
near  Dureirs  Mridge,  two  miles  from  the  sea. 

'  The  Monsain,  formerly  Cape  porpoise  Uivcr,  or  .Mt-nuncook,  issues  from  jionilH  of  tlu.t 
name  in  Shapleiuh.  twenty  miles  inland.  Its  water  |iower  is  ii.sed  by  mills  at  Keniiebtink 
villa^'c,  but  it  has  no  harbor  worthy  of  the  name.  The  want  of  one  induced,  in  I71i<'t,  an 
attempt  t<t  turn  the  river  from  its  natural  coursi-  into  a  new  channel.  This  was  dually  done 
by  dammiiiK  u))  the  stream  at  a  p<ii....  opposite  the  late  Henry  <'.  Hart's  estate.  tiiouKh  the 
hoped-for  iMiictits  were  never  realized,  as  nothiim  but  the  smaUest  craft  can  enter  the  Mou- 
Hiim.      The  rt'iimhiH  of  this  dam  uiid  old  nver-lM;d  atv  still  to  b«  Hoeu.     Couaiderable  ship- 


A   TLItX    AUOIT   WKLLs    HAV. 


ts 


'I' 

to 
so 
III 


85 

'"■"■•I"- -r u-h  „M„.r „,  r,  ;. ,  ,r;„,  r , ,  'T "  ;  "■■" ""•  "'"■■■■ K 

Mi'.o  "f.  '■"'"  "'"•  "«"■  "»■'■  h  II.  .M.  S.  llml,T,  ,u,.l  „„.,|„ 


Vi 


A    KIIMMKK    HIINHKT. 


CIIAITKi;    VI. 


Al'    KI'NMslll   MvI'MKT. 


"  1/  iiniliiili'l  iiiiir  iliviNii 
lta»;iiii  III  Niillr  I'  il  iiiuiiii- 
Vii  pasHiiirit  Tit  ill  tiiiiiM- 
Vii  |iriKi<)iiifni  in  Inin.-." 

TIIK  siillix  "|Miit"  is  ol'  sin-li  trr(|ui-iit  «M'rm-r«'iirr  on  oiir  s«*iitM>:inl  tlial  the 
ulmlf  roast  may  Ih*  saiil  to  lit'  |ioi-t-liolfi|. 

'rwi'iity-fivc  y«'i»rs  aj,'o  i\\>'  villas'"'  '»!'  Kfiiii«'liiiiik|N>rt  \v;us  roiiiparat ivdy 
iiiikiiown.  or  if  cvi-r  known,  il  IkhI  Ix-i-n  roi<,'ol,t,iMi.  In  its  ;;fn«Tal  IVatnrt'S  it 
Immi-s  a  «■<  rtain  family  irsfmlilunci'  to  <Mil  \'ork,  as  those  who  may  iH'comr 
ari|iiaintiMl  with  Imth  |il:n-<'s  will  soon  (lisr<ivi'r.  ^'ork  lit'S  alon^  tin*  hanks  of 
u  short  tiilal  river;  so  iloi-s  Ki-nni'liiink|«irt!  \'ork  has  its  ohl  villa^'i' ami  its 
new  sett  l<im-nt;  so  has  Ki'nm'liiink|»orl.  ^  ork,  in  lim-,  is  a  sort  of  anarhro- 
nisni.  roiit«'ni|Mirary  with  (icorKf  tluf  Thir«l  ami  Jiarrison  tin*  S«'roml ;  so,  tiMt,  is 
l\i'nnclnink|Mirt. 

Then'  has  iM-i-n  no  tantalizing'  sti't'ph'-chasi'  from  afar  off  t«i  whrt  our 
curiosity.      Wf  have  simply  arrived. 

Our  attention  is  at  once  drawn  o  the  am|ihiltious  ehariwter  of  life  on  the 
waU't  front,  iiy  certiiin  a|ip<Niranees  to  which  wi'  sin*  not  used  at  home.  For 
in.st:inee.  one  seeH  a  hor.se  hitched  at  the  front  and  a  wherry  at  the  l»aek  of  the 
shops.  It  is  |(ossi(i|e  then  for  a  shopkeeper  to  sail  up  to  his  door,  as  in  Venice, 
or  u'"  a-tishini;  out  of  his  hack  windows,  as  in  Holland. 

When  I  first  knew  this  place,  hoth  hanks  of  the  river  were  lined  with  ship- 
yard.s,  that  from  morn  till  night,  and  from  week's  end  to  wtH'k's  end,  were  all  alive 


AT    KKNNKIirNKI'OUT. 


«7 


witli  tlh'  litlxir  of  liunili'i-ils  of  \vi)rUiiii-ii.     'I'li<>   iiiurilMiiiil   industry   is  lian'ly 
ki-|it,  alive    ill   oiii-  \:iril    imw.     'I'lini,  at  llif  strokr  ol    Hi-veii    Inmi  tlir   village 


lii'liiv,  till' air  rcHoinnlfil   witli  tin'  rt-iincs  iit'  a  tlioiisuiKl  liainiiK'is. 


<()w   the 


viila^'c  liMiks  as  tliiiii^di  it  liail  lain  <lnwn  and  ^(ine  to  sleep  under  its  elms. 

The  history  oi'  one  of  these  yards  is  the  history  ol'  all.  Within  the  ineniory 
of  all  iiiiddle-a^'ed  |ieo|t|e  shi|i-liuildin^  was  the  one  iiii|iortaiit  imlustiy  of  a 
hundred  hailiors  and  a  hundred  thousand  nieehaiiies.  It  was  only  ^dveii  up 
when  linaneial  ruin  had  ovi'rt.akeii  most  ot°  the  Imilders,  who  hravely  held  out 
lor  the  better  days  that  never  eanie.  Iie^innin^  with  the  tishin^  hoats  of  a 
century  af^'o,  it.  had  steadily  advaiieed  to  sloops,  .sehooiiers,  ami  liri^s,  and  Iroiu 
lifi^s  to  ships  ol'  the  la rf^est  <'lass  afloat.  It  has  now  shrunk  to  its  lirst  estate, — 
a  result  involvim^'  not  only  the  t.urnin*^'  away  of  capital  and  the  stagnation 
coiisetpieiit  Upon  its  loss,  hut  what  is  lur  monj  to  he  depiured,  it  liius  brought 


niK    HIIII-V.Mdt    AM    IT    WAH. 


alHMit  the  dispersion  of  a  distiiietivit  liody  ^t\'  skilled  native  American  crafts* 
men,  whom  it  would  he  hard  to  match  in  any  liranch  of  modern  industry,  or  in 
any  couiitr\ .  The  dishandiiif.^  of  such  a  hody  of  men  can  hardly  he  viewed  in 
any  other  li;4ht  than  as  a  national  misfortune. 

in  the  days  wiicn  ship-ltiiildin^'  was  an  American  industry,  as  many  as  live 
tirst-class  ships  have  lieeii  K<*>>>K  >>i'  '"  ^''"'  .v-'i>°ds  here  at  one  and  the  same  time. 
Once  I  counted  nine  vessels,  large  and  small,  on  the  stocks. 

Then,  besides  the  yards  themsidvcs,  thero  wcni  the  various  tra(h'H  |iertaining 
cxidusivcly  to  ship-building,  such  as  Hpar-making,  boat-building,  sail  making, 
riggini;,  pump,  and  iiloek  making,  joining,  paintiiiL;,  and  the  like.  All  shared 
the  same  fate,  and  what  we  now  see  are  the  fossil  remains. 

rim  records  show  that  since  tlut  beginning  of  the  century  more  than  eight 
hundred  vcs.sels  have  been  sent  out  from  tin*  shipyurds  of  this  river.'  <  >ii« 
finds  little  pleasure  in  retracing  this  ehaitter  id"  history,  alrea<ly  ancient,  too 
oft«'n  heard  with  iwcnululity  or  indifl'erenci ,  except  as  it  serves  to  (>xplain  why 


88 


TIIK    riNK-TUKi:   (HAST. 


HO  iimny  Hij,'ns  of  Ht!i>,'i»iiti(>ii  .■in-  visililc  in  tlu'so  scajMirt  towns,     hv.t  Dw  politi- 
cal iTononiistH  tell  us  why  jiroM|M'rity  ^ors  in  wavi-.s. 

Tlicsf  ilrcayin^  wharves  and  <'ni|ity  wan-littuscs  exhibit  th<'  (h'niands  of  a 
ronsi(h*ralih'  coninicrci'.  \rs  ;  hut  tht-  Iti^  s<>a|Mirts  Unnf  a^o  ate  up  the  litth' 
oufs.  And  th<'  raih'oad.s,  liy  inti'iccptiii;^  all  tlir  iidand  husincss  that  wiis  onrc 
triliutarv  to  tht'Sf  lesser  points  of  supply,  have  r\i\  ufT  their  eo:istin^'  trade;  so 
that  nature  seems  to  have  endowed  them  with  eertain  franchises  fur  proj,'rcss 
tu  make  void.    The  suhHtancu  wcut  lung  ago;  the  sh:ulow  disappeared  when  tht) 


TIIK    WIIBCK    AHIIOKK. 


la.st  coasting  vessel  oi  the  old  lleet  w;ih  s(thl  last  year.  .\nd  this  is  the  whole 
story  in  a  few  words. 

Hut  ui  all  the  odd  changes  which  this  state  of  things  exhibits  on  the  sp<»t, 
perhaps  the  oddest  is  the  readjustment  it  has  called  for  in  the  seaf;iring  popit- 
lation  itself.  'I'o  see  men  who  havcf  navigated  Itig  ships  the  world  over,  now 
turning  tln-ir  hands  t(»  anything  they  can  pick  up  an  Imiiest  living  at,  sets  one 
seri<»usly  fpiestioning  whether,  after  all,  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  law  of  natural 
drift,  where  ev(»ry  man  fiiuls  his  true  level  at  last.  Kven  the  villagt^  grave- 
digger  has  thus  heen  .stnindeil  by  the  hanl  logic  of  events. 

Kennebunkport  is  now  a  wtdU'staiblished  watering-phuic.     Catering  hir  the 


i 


AT    KKNNKIirNKIMtKT. 


S',» 


smiiiucr  visitors'  Wiiiits    loniis   its   uiii<|im  ncciiitiitictii.      A  W(jr<l  or  two  will 
fX)il:iiii  liow  this  li:is  Immmi  lu'oii^'lit  iilioiit. 

Ill  1S7L'  it  ii'w  "solid  iiicii  of  Mostoii,"  who  wrri'  lookiiij;  ovn-  the  coast  with 
!i  view  of  lociitiiij,' a  iii'W  siiiiiim'r  resort,  wrn-  attrarlrd  \i\  tin-  iiniisiial  a«lvaii- 
taj^i's  olTtTcd  h\  the  iiiiociii|tif(|  sliorc-front  lin-c  for  Ihi-ir  |iiii|iosi-.  It  was 
hondcd  or  iMdi^dit  up,  :iiid  opcratioii.s  lx'},'uii  lt_y  liiiililiii^  u  hottd,  wlii«:h  was  lirHt 


. 


til 


S     1 


■-—^J..--^. 


Tin:     IIIISIIIAM    ■•KIIKINH    IIOI'HK. 


ii|iciifd  to  the  ]iiil)lic  in  the  siiiiiiiirr  of  l<S7>>,  iiiidcr  tlir  iiiaiia^'i'iiitiit  of  that 
vftcraii  landlord,  tlol)  flniiutss,  and  hy  thr  now  widely  known  name  of  tlu; 
(»cean  Itliitr. 

Mefore  this  result  caiiie  about,  Keiinel>unk|)ort  had  hut  two  ^'eo^i-aphieal 
divisions,  — ( 'a|»e  Porpoise,  the  old,  oiivjiiiiil  sett  lenient,  and  the  lar^'er  villa^'e  at 
the  river,  wliieh  is  its  later  developnienl.  The  liiiildiii^  up  of  the  suniiiier 
eulony  has  added  a  third.  As  the  history  of  tin-  village  ^oes  no  farther  haek 
than  the  niiildle  of  the  last  eentury,  it  lacks  the  interest  that  attaches  to  the 
older  settlement  at  Cape  I'orpoise,  which  received  its  liaptisni  in  the  Ithmd  of 
its  foremost,  citizens.  In  fact,  it  was  not  until  ahoiit  I7I<»  that  Paul  Shackford 
huilt,  th(^  lirst  house  at  what 

is   now    Keiineliiinkport   Nil-  ..sr  ■■'.'r-J-  i'    •■■^v 

lil^'c.  Tlu'  second  was  Itiiilt 
liy  Kowlandson  iiond  aliont 
threi' years  later;  the  third. 
Iiy  (iideoii  Walker,  in  17l."i: 
and  ine  fourth,  hy  lOliphalct 
Perkins.  When  the  road  to 
(jofT's  Mill,  now  corrcspond- 
iu)f  with  Main  Street,  was 
laid  out.  ill  17r»r»,  these  were 
the  only  houses  in  the  villat,'e,  althou^di  there  were  several  others  in  the  neii;li- 
horhood,  notahly  that  of  the  late  Tristram  Perkins,  near  the  lock,  and  tint  onu 
'•over  the  rivor,''  Htill  renniininj,'  in  the  MitcdicII  family,'^ 


Mllrnia.l.  N   li.VKUINON. 


■'■'  11 


I 


v^ 


^ 


/2 


/: 


7 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0    ^' 


I.I 


1.25 


21    III  2.5 


lit  Ki 


12.0 


1.8 


U    IIIIII.6 


^ 
^ 


A 


// 


.^^  ^ 


I/. 


^A 
^ 


I 


w 


1 


90 


THE  riNE-TIlEE  COAST. 


»' 


m 


Let  me  explain  that  "  over  the  river "  is  a  term  of  alluring  vagueness  that 
has  no  reference  here  to  the  "  undiscovered  country  "  from  which  no  traveller 
returns.  It  is  more  or  less  indefinitely  applied  to  all  the  south-side  region 
enclosed  between  the  Wells  road,  the  river,  and  the  sea.  It  may  reach  as  far 
as  Bald  Head  Cliff  and  Ogunquit,  or  it  may  be  limited  to  a  circuit  of  the  nearest 
beaches  and  the  roads  leading  to  them. 

The  Congregational  meeting-house,  which  is  so  prominent  an  object  when 
our  village  is  approached,  was  not  built  until  the  year  1824.  An  old  citizen 
once  told  me  iu  confidence  that  he  had  helped  to  drink  the  "  sperrits  "  that  wore 


CONGREGATIONAL   MEETING-HOUSE. 


f|l|l 


furnished  when  the  house  was  raised.  The  times  have  changed  since  then. 
Old  residents  shake  their  heads  mournfully  and  say  they  have  nothing  to  live 
on  now  but  tliese  memories.  In  those  "  good  old  times,"  so  feelingly  referred 
to  by  the  oldsters,  an  allowance  of  grog  was  served  out  every  day  in  the  ship- 
yards, the  hayfields,  at  a  launch,  at  funerals,  at  weddings,  —  wherever,  in  short, 
joy  was  to  be  incited,  sorrow  assuaged,  or  labor  performed.     Some  of  the  stories 


AT   KENNEBUNKPORT. 


91 


told  about  the  drinking-bouts  of  that  day  would  have  made  honest,  thirsty  Jack 
FaLstatt'  hold  his  breath  with  admiration.     But  we  have  reformed  all  that. 

I  have  already  explained  why  the  village  itself  has  hgured  so  little  in  those 
stirring  events  that  belong  exclusively  to  the  older  communities  around  it. 
It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  never  known  one  less  affected  by  contact  with  the 
outside  world. 

But  every  medal  has  its  reverse.  I  have  often  wondered  what  the  gay 
sojourners  of  a  summer  would  think  if  they  could  drop  in  here  after  AVinter  had 
laid  his  icy  hand  on  the  woods  and  streams,  and  some  cold  snap  had  shut  up 
the  river,  or  some  heavy  snowfall  so  blocked  up  the  roads  that  ])loughs  and  hai*- 
rows  were  being  used  to  break  them  out  and  make  them  passable.  He  would 
find  it  hard  to  recognize  his  old  playground,  I  fear. 
The  seashore  is  seldom  visited  then,  though  its 
moanings  can  be  heard  in  the  stillness  of  the  long 
winter  evenings, — that  deep  diapason  which  we  call 
the  rote, — or  its  hoarse  bellowings  when  some  gale 
is  lashing  it  with  destructive  hand.  There  are  pale 
and  anxious  faces  by  the  warm  firesides  then,  for 
that  terrible  voice  of  the  ocean  has  called  up  mem- 
ories of  those  who  will  nevermore  come  home  from 
sea. 

But  come,  let  us  leave  these  dismal  fancies  and 
betake  ourselves  to  the  promised  enjoyments  of  the 
hour. 

Quitting  the  village  by  the  road  skirting  the 
river,  the  shore  colony  is  reached  in  going  rather  less  than  a  mile.  Here  is  also 
the  point  where  the  old  shore  road  crossed  this  river  on  its  winding  way  to  the 
eastward. 

The  kernel  of  the  settlement  which  has  grown  up  on  this  spot  was  two  or 
three  fishermen's  cottages,  with  a  solitary  row  of  balm  of  Gileads  leaning  out 
before  them  over  the  river's  l^ank.  Here,  too,  if  I  err  not,  was  the  dwelling- 
place  of  Trowbridge's  "■  Old  Lobsterman,"  whose  surroundings  are  thus  tersely 
depicted :  — 

"  A  furlong  or  more  away  to  the  south, 

On  the  bar  beyond  the  huge  sea-walls 
Th.at  keep  the  channel  and  guard  its  mouth, 

The  high,  curved  billow  wh'iens  and  falls ; 
And  the  ebbing  tides  through  the  granite  gate, 

On  their  wild  I'vrands  that  will  not  wait. 
Forever  unresting,  to  aid  fro. 

Course  with  impetuous  ebb  and  flow." 


THE    TEMPERANCE    MOVEMENT. 


1:1) 


:n 


(: 


['■'    V 


It  is  at  least  singular  that  this  point  should  have  been  the  site  of  the 
ancient  ferry  established  by  a  colonial  order  of  1653,  abandoned  when  the 
building  of  the  bridges  higher  up  suspended  it  as  a  travelled  way,  to  be  again 


T 


02 


THE    I'INK-TRKK   COAST. 


restored  as  a  feature  of  tlu;  new  life  of  the  itlacjc;,  whicli  lias  thus  shaken  hands 
witli  the  old  across  the  gulf  of  time. 

(Jiuicrally  spcakiiif,',  when  the  tid(!  was  at  its  lowest,  the  river  could  be 
forded  here;  so  that  tht;  (;rossiiij^  h'l'K  went  hy  the  name  of  tlie  VVadiiig-l'hute. 
r.y  and  l)y,  when  the  i^'ovcriimeiit  Ix'^'an  tlic;  },'ranite  j)icrs''  at  the  rivfir's  mouth, 
it  h(M'ani»'  necessary  to  build  a  wharf  h(u-(!,  in  order  to  carry  on  that  work  witli 
ailviiutaife,  after  which  th(!  lo(!ality  to(jk  th(!  nam<^  of  "the  j,'overnment  wharf." 
Since  tiien  it  has  always  been  found  a  v(!ry  convenient  s])ot  for  wind  or  tich; 
l)()iind  v(!ssels  to  tie  up  at.  Lonely  outpost,  in(h'ed,  when  from  his  wooden  castl(5 
on  yonder  bank,  only  tin;  ferryman    kept  solitary  watch   for  unfreipient  ])as- 


seuffcrs 


Then^  is  a  tradition  about  an  adventure  of  Stephen  J  larding,  who  k(!pt  the 
ferry  iiere  long  ago,  that  bcdongs  to  this  locality. 

Harding's  log-house  stood  on  the  swell  of  ground  enclosed  between  Gooch's 


U  ADINii-l'l-ACl-; 


Creek  and  the  beach  and  rivci'.  Tradition  reports  him  a  man  of  uncommon 
l)iiyHic,al  strength  iuid  courage, — a  very  giant,  in  fact.  Tii»i  ln<lians  knew  Har- 
ding W(dl,  and  Harding  kn(nv  them  of  old. 

OiKi  morning,  on  going  out  of  the  house,  he  saw  a  l)and  of  Indians,  returning 
do\d)tless  from  their  repulse  at  Wells,  filing  acrross  the  rocks  rising  at  the 
I'arthest  end  of  the  beach.  The  redskins,  of  course,  wcu'e  coming  to  pay  him  a 
visit. 

It  was  now  lliirding's  turn  to  l)e  alarineil.  I'^ortunatcdy  for  him,  th(!  ])and 
was  still  at  a  distance,  but  there  was  not  a  moment  to  lose.  Hurrying  back  to 
the  house,  Harding  told  his  wife  to  take  their  litth;  year-old  infant,  and  make 
haste  to  put  the  ercM'k  betweiMi  her  and  the  redskins.  The  terriiiiMl  woman 
snatched  u[)  the  (;hild,  and  ran  off  with  it  as  slu^  was  told,  whiU;  Harding 
remained  JMihind  to  protect  her  Hight,  if,  as  he  half  susj)ected,  more  Indians 
shovdd  be  lurking  about  there. 

It  turned  out  as  he  thought;  for  upon  going  into  his  bhu^ksmith's  shop,  four 
Indians  started  up  from  the  gi'ound  and  made  a  rush  for  him.  Harding  now 
thought  it  time  to  be  making  his  own  estiape.  His  cornlield  offered  tlu^  '"dy 
cover  at  hand,  so  into  that  he  plunged  with  rapid  stri(h's;  but  whiht  running 
at  the  top  of  his  speed,  to  his  unspeakable  dismay  he  suddenly  came  up<jn  his 


i 


AT   KKNNE  BUNK  POUT. 


j)a 


gooch'h  ckkkk. 


wil'c,  whom  ho  su])pose(l  to  h((  in  salV'ty,  crouiOiiiif^  down  iiiiionj^  the  corn.  The 
poor  woiHiin  was  jjrostratcvl  l»y  terror,  and  Ijcnu}^  no  lon^'cr  cajjahh;  of  niakinff 
th(!  huist  etfort  to  sav(^  hor  life,  had  sunk  down  lielph.'ss  within  only  a  few  rods 
of  the  liouse.  Hardin^f's 
(ixtraordinary  ni  u  s  c  u  1  a  r 
.stnni^^'th  was  now  put  to 
the  t(!st.  Takinj^  his  wife; 
\inder  on<!  arm,  and  his 
hah(!  under  the  oth(!r,  h(! 
dashed  on  again  for  tlie 
crtMsk,  into  which  he 
])lui!ged,  getting  safely 
ov(!r  it,  witli  his  charge 
uidiarmed,  too,  though  the 
savages  followed  him  to 
the  shor(!  of  tin;  (ireek  be- 
fore; they  gave  uj)  th(!  chase. 
Once  across,  tlu;  thick  wocjds 
enabhid  Harding  to  place 
his    wife    and    child    in   a 

secure  hiding-])lace.  All  this  time  his  favorite  dog  had  followed  (dose;  at  his 
heeds;  but  for  fear  that  the  animal's  barking  might  betray  them,  his  master  was 
forced  to  kill  him.  All  that  night  they  lay  in  tin;  woods.  Ijatc;  the  next  day, 
the  f\igitives,  footsore  and  half-starved,  njacluMl  Storer's  garrison  at  Widls.  It 
is  probabki  that  the  Indians  wished  to  take  Harding  aUve,  or  lie  (iould  hardly 
hav(!  escaped  so  easily.  They  showed  gn^at  admiration  for  his  ])rowess  in  this 
alfair,  (jften  saying  of  him,  "Much  man  ►Stephen  :  all  same  one  Indian." 

_-- — _-         _  Youfler   are   the 

piers,  black  and  mas- 
sive. Many  jx'rsons 
who  hav(!  enjoyed 
a  quiiit  stroll  uj)  and 
down  this  brce/.y 
l>romenade,  wlien 
th(!  sea  is  as  calm 
as  a  sleejting  balic, 
doubtless  liavc  won- 
dered what  such 
thick  walls  of  in- 
destructible granit(> 
Avere  inten<h'd  U) 
keep  out.  The  river  runs  by  (piietly  enough,  they  think.  So  it  (hies.  Tin; 
languid  sea  hardly  breaks  (mtside.  That  is  true.  Uut  then,  those;  persons  liave 
never  witnessed  a  storm  at  sea,  or  they  would  scarcely  say  they  would  give  any- 
thing to  see  one. 


-  ^,-^:^, 


NOHTH    I'IKU    AND    BKACII. 


I  ill 


n'  ii 


^^1 


>     !■' 


Kit! 


Ill* 


r  il 


94 


THE  PINE-TREE  COAST. 


Not  long  ago  my  gossip  Dixey,  —  rest  his  soul !  —  who  knew  every  kernel  of 
sand  on  the  coast,  was  telling  nie  about  the  great  gale  of  1851  —  the  same  one 
which  swept  away  Minot's  lighthouse  as  if  it  had  been  a  confectioner's  pagoda 
on  a  show-cake,  instead  of  a  tower  of  iron,  with  iron  columns  deeply  imbedded 
in  solid  rock.  "  Man  !  "  said  old  Dixey  to  me,  throwing  off  his  hal)itual  apathy 
at  the  bare  recollection  of  that  fearful  night,  "man  alive!  you  couldn't  see 
neither  pier  for  three  mortal  hours,  —  yes,  and  more  too.    Breaker  arter  breaker 


RETIRED    LOIlSTKiniAN. 


drove  right  over  'em,  full  chisel ;  car'd  away  three  of  them  biggest  granite 
blocks  you  see  on  the  top  tier,  weighing  seven  ton  apiece,  and  hove  'em  inter 
the  channel  same's  a  boy  would  a  brickbat.  There  they  be  now.  Snapped 
copper  bolts  [the  blocks  of  stone  are  strongly  bolted  together]  tew  inches  thick, 
like  that,"  the  old  man  finished,  suiting  the  action  to  the  Avord,  by  breaking 
in  two  a  chip  he  held  in  his  hand,  to  show  me  how  easily  the  thing  was  done. 

For  years  the  occurrence  was  talked  about  as  one  that  might  not  ha])pen 
again  in  a  lifetime ;  but  in  the  winter  of  1888-89,  I  myself  saw  the  seas  break 


AT  KENNEBUNKPORT. 


95 


over  both  piers  from  end  to  end  during  a  violent  blow  from  the  northeast,  and 
this  time  a  wide  breach  was  made  in  the  solid  granite  wall  of  the  north  pier, 
through  which  cataracts  of  water  rush  at  every  tide,  thus  endangering  the  safe  .y 
of  the  whole  structure.* 

This  river,  which,  when  full,  is  charming,  and  when  empty,  only  a  crooked 
ditch,  is  the  aquatic  playground  for  what  may  be  called  the  floating  population, 
who  find  it  a  delightful  experience 


"  To  let  the  wheiTy  listless  go, 
And  wrapt  in  dreamy  joy, 
Dip  and  surge  idly  to  and  fro, 
Like  the  red  harbor  buoy  ; 

"  To  sit  in  happy  indolence. 
To  rest  upon  the  oars. 
And  catch  the  heavy  earthy  scents 
That  blow  from  summer  shores  ; 

"  To  see  the  rounded  sun  go  down, 
And  with  his  parting  fires 
Light  up  the  windows  of  the  town 
And  burn  the  tapering  spires." 

Sometimes  hemmed  in  between  wharves,  sometimes  spreading  out  a  spacious 
basin,  the  river  is  always  running  a  race  with  itself  out  to  sea,  or  back  again 
into  the  land.  At  the  village  it  is  narrow  and  swift.  It  goes  frisking  along 
like  a  child,  playing  as  it  runs,  making  endless  pirouettes  in  mid-stream,  hum- 
ming softly  to  itself  in  the  gloom  of  yonder  dripping  arches,  or  loitering  play- 
fully awhile  in  some  cpiiet  reach  among  overhanging  groves,  yet  ever  coming 
back  to  its  appointed  task  with  renewed  vigor.  Let  us,  grown-up  children  as 
we  are,  imitate  the  river. 

There  is  one  summer  visitor  of  by-gone  days,  seldom  seen  at  the  river  now 
that  it  has  become  so  popidous.  "  Into  what  corner  peers  my  halcyon's  bill  ?  "' 
That  impudent  little  highwayman,  the  king-tisher,  used  to  make  the  river  noisy 
with  his  loud  scream  of  triumph  as  he  poiuuied  on  some  unlucky  shiner  and 
flew  off  with  hiju  to  his  hiding-place  in  the  woods.  He  has  now  nearly  if  not 
(piite  forsaken  the  river.  INIore's  the  pity  !  since  he  was  an  original  denizen  of 
the  seashore,  and  a  bird  of  great  esteem  among  the  ancients,  who  believed  that 
if  stuffed  and  hung  up,  his  body  would  turn  round  with  every  change  of  the 
wind,  and  thus  show  from  what  quarter  it  blew.' 

The  river  readily  lends  itself  to  all  the  caprices  of  the  summer  visitors.  It 
is  their  idle  voyage  or  race-course,  their  trysting-place  or  processional.  For  at 
the  close  of  every  season  tribute  is  paid  to  the  pleasures  that  are  past,  by 
holding  a  carnival  of  boats,  which,  with  their  illuminations,  red-fire,  and  rockets, 
resemble  a  great  fiery  serpent  belching  forth  colored  (lames,  as  it  crawls  slowly 
along  the  dark  course  of  the  river. 

Floating  up  with  the   tide  through  the   old  lock,   between   banks    now 


:i 


I  ■  i 


VH 


liM 


w 


1 


96 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


I         :l 


I     v; 


brightened  by  cultivated  farms,  now  shadowed  by  thick-set  woods,  one  comes 
to  Durell's  bridge.  Nothing  couhl  be  more  at  variance  with  the  tragedy  once 
enacted  here  than  the  prevailing  drowsiness  of  a  summer's  day.  But  to  my 
story  :  — 

Philip  Duroll  lived  a  long  mile  above  the  lock,  at  what  is  called  the  Land- 
ing. His  isolated  situation  invited  the  attack  which  his  absence  from  home 
made  so  easily  successful.  AVhen  he  did  return,  at  nightfall,  Durell  found  his 
house  plundered  a.id  desolate.  He  did  not  need  to  be  told  what  the  ruin 
about  him  meant,  or  who  had  been  there  in  his  absence.  His  wife  and  son,  his 
married  daughter,  Mrs.  Baxter,  with  her  infant,  were  all  gone,  —  all  in  the 
hands  of  murdering  savages.  The  men  of  that  day  were  men  of  action. 
Durell  hurriedly  collected  his  nearest  neighbors,  with  whom  he  started  off  in 
pursuit. 

It  happened  that  while  the  Indians  were  ransacking  Durell's  house,  they 
came  across  the  old  family  Bible,  which  in  those  primitive  days  men  believed 

to  be  the  undoubted 
Word  of  God.  The 
savages  knew  that  this 
book  was  held  in  the 
highest  veneration  by 
the  pale  faces  ;  so,  in  the 
belief  that  it  would  put 
them  in  possession  of 
some  all-powerful  charm, 
they  took  it  away  with 
them.  They  supposed  it, 
indeed,  to  be  the  white 
man's  trusted  oracle  and 
guide  through  which  he 
derived  all  his  superior 
knowledge  and  power.  But  the  march  to  Canada  was  long  and  the  Good  Book 
heavy,  —  so  heavy  that,  notwithstanding  its  presumed  potency,  the  savage  who 
carried  it  threw  it  away  at  the  first  camping-place. 

Upon  finding  themselves  closely  pursued,  these  Indians  inhumanly  butch- 
ered all  their  prisoners  except  the  boy,  John  Durell,  and  left  them  lying  in 
their  blood.  John  was  taken  to  Canada,  where  he  lived  so  long  Avith  his  cap- 
tors that  he  became  half  Indian,  and  wholly  weaned  from  the  habits  of  civil- 
ized life. 

After  lying  buried  all  winter  long  under  the  snow,  the  stolen  Bible  was 
found  by  accident  in  the  spring.  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  examining  this 
historical  treasure,  which  is  looked  upon  with  still  greater  veneration  by  its 
present  owners  on  account  of  its  history.^  The  sacred  book  bears  indisputable 
evidence  of  the  rough  usage  it  received  at  that  time,  which  was  in  October, 
1726. 


THE     OI,I>     LOCK. 


AT   KENNEBUNKPOUT.     .  97 

Many  people  begin  their  first  letter  from  the  shore  in  this  manner :  — 

"  We  reached  the  pl.ace  by  night 
Anil  heai'il  the  waves  breaking." 

It  is  indeed  a  novel  experience  to  hear  for  the  first  time,  and  all  night  long, 
that  measured  and  prolonged  sound,  half  soothing,  half  threatening,  come  in  at 
your  open  window.  You  may  close  the  window  and  draw  tlie  curtains,  but  you 
cannot  shut  it  out.  It  insensibly  creeps  into  the  consciousness  like  something 
that  has  power  over  you,  and  you  fall  asleep  listening  to  this  eternal  monody 
of  Old  Ocean,  with  strange  thoughts  of  what  it  is  going  to  x'eveal  to  you  on 
the  morrow. 

The  morning  shows  the  long  coastline,  lower  than  you  had  thought, 
sweeping  grandly  round  from  York  Nubble  to  your  feet.  Twenty  leagutjs  of 
the  Atlantic  lie  glistening  in  the  sun,  like  a  great  carpet  of  azure  silver,  which 
is  being  gently  shaken  by  unseen  hands. 

Charles  Lamb  somewhere  speaks  of  his  first  view  of  the  ocean  as  dis- 
appointing, because  by  the  law  of  imagination  '••we  expec^t  to  see  all  the  sea  at 
on(!e,  the  commensurate  antagonist  of  the  land."  What  an  idea  !  That  state- 
ment hardly  holds  water,  for  the  reason  that  the  imagination  generally  busies 
itself  more  with  what  we  do  not  see  than  what  we  do.  The  effect  of  seeing 
nothing  but  water  before  us  does,  I  think,  produce  the  illusion  of  illimitable- 
ness.  To  this  order  of  ideas  the  horizon  line  is  like  that  separating  us  from 
futurity  itself. 

I  have  often  been  an  interested  observer  of  the  power  that  the  ocean  exerts 
over  different  natures.  Most  people  on  getting  their  first  glimpse  of  it  seem 
to  lose  the  power  of  speech,  and  stand  as  if  awe-struck  by  the  sight.  Quite  as 
often  as  otherwise  their  bewilderment  finds  expression  in  some  ludicrous  way, 
Avhen  speech  does  come  to  them.  I  recollect  one  woman  wh(j,  it  was  evident, 
had  never,  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life,  seen  the  real  ocean,  or  possiljly 
thought  much  about  it,  except  as  a  place  where  salted  fish  came  from.  This, 
my  countrywoman,  was  overheard  saying,  almost  breathlessly,  to  her  companion, 
"  Mercy  and  truth  !     I'm  struck  all  of  a  heap ! " 

Another,  Avho  had  begged  her  goodman  honestly  to  tell  her  if  this  was  the 
''truly  ocean"  she  had  heard  so  much  about,  upon  receiving  the  assurance  that 
there  was  no  mistake  about  it,  laid  a  trembling  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  with  a 
startled  look,  exclaimed  under  her  breath,  "  Don't  it  look  as  if  it  must  run  right 
down  here  and  drown  us  all  this  minute  !•' 

Yes,  it  is  indeed  the  real  ocean  that  we  see  stretched  out  there  in  the  sun. 

Blue  and  benignant  Agamenticus  is  still  the  prominent  landmark,  which 
lends  a  certain  graco  tc  '  '  outlines  of  the  opposite  coast.  Farther  inland  tli; 
triple  peaks  of  Bonnybcag,^  seen  above  the  forest,  suggest  both  in  form  and 
color  a  great  tidal  wave  advancing  from  the  interior  toward  the  coast,  and  on  a 
clear  day  the  White  Mountains  themselves,  frequently  white  Avith  snow  in  the 
month  of  May,  may  be  seen  from  any  elevated  ground  in  the  neighborhood. 


If'i 


'    !  '5»i!! 


Ml 


;:i,1 


m 


li 


;l 


i;,s  8 


i     I 

; ;  if 


t  f 


I 


98 


TiiK  riNi:-'iin:K  coast. 


!il!l 


Although  tliore  are  no  outlying'  isLuuls  in  this  bay,  there  are  some  very  bad 
ledj^es  which  all  gentlemen  sailors  will  do  well  to  steer  clc  ir  of.  First,  and 
worst  of  all,  because  they  lie  exactly  in  the  track  of  vessels  bound  in  or  out,  is 
the  clump  (ialled  the  Fishing  Kocks,  which,  however,  make  a  feature  of  a  nu)st 
charming  sea-view.  There  used  to  be  magnificent  rock-cod  and  cunner  fishing 
anu)ng  these  ledges,  but  one  has  need  to  keep  a  wary  eye  abroad  there ;  for  the 
breaker  that  rolls  over  them  so  lazily,  and  is  so  much  admired  from  shore, 
would  swamp  a  boat  before  one  could  call  on  St.  Anthony  or  say  Jack 
K obi  n son. 

The  strip  of  shore  lying  between  the  river  and  Sandy  Cove  forms  the  head- 
land locally  known  as  Cape  Arundel,  on  which  the  summer  colony  has  perched 
itself  as  if  by  instinct.     Let  us  walk  that  way. 

The  path  leads  first  to  a  dilapidated  earthwork,  or  rather  sandwork,  which 
but  for  the  slender  beach-grass  growing  upon  it  would  have  been  scattered 
to  the  four  Avinds  long  ago.     These  mounds  are  a  relic  of  the  War  of  1<S12. 


OLD   HALl-MOON    H ATTERY. 


Knowing  how  averse  New  England  was  to  the  war,  the  British  Cabinet  deter- 
mined to  make  her  still  more  so  by  striking  at  her  connnerce  and  open  ports. 
"  Burn,  sink,  and  destroy  ! "  were  the  Avatch words  of  this  war.  "What  a  com- 
mentary upon  our  boasted  civilization  ! 

The  land  here  is  high,  and  the  shore  bold.  Nothing  is  smoothed  off.  The 
pastures  bristle  with  the  wild  native  growth.  Now  and  then  some  deep,  broad 
split  yawns  before  us,  into  which  the  sea  flies  foaming  to  our  feet,  or  shoots 
up  a  column  of  spray  high  in  the  air.  Here  now  is  one  to  which  the  sonorous 
name  of  the  "Devil's  Cartway"  has  been  given.  And  the  "Devil's  Arm- 
chair"^ is  its  close  neighbor.  There's  something  in  a  name  even  at  the 
shore.  Only  a  few  years  ago  I  saw  the  hull  of  a  vessel,  with  every  stick  gone 
out  of  her,  wedged  bolt  upright  in  the  Cartway.  The  next  gale  broke  her  up. 
Despite  its  name,  the  place  proved  the  salvation  of  the  crew ;  for  if  the  vessel 


AT   KENNEHUNKIH  )I{T. 


<)!) 


had  struok  halt'  her  h'uj^th  cither  to  right  or  left,  there  wouhl  have   been  a 
different  tah^  to  telh 

Tlie  soashon;  is  undoubtedly  made;  mon^  interesting  to  us  all,  both  old  and 
young,  by  the  \v(jnderful  forms  of  animal  life  it  exhibits,  so  ditferent  from  any- 
thing l)(donging  to  the  dry  land;  but  only  at  low  tide  can  we  indulge  the  hmcy 
to  grope  about  the  strange  territory  whi(di  the  retreating  waves  have  left  bare, 
and  the  crows  so  regularly  freiiuent.  We  have  idready  frightened  away  two  or 
three  of  them  while  picking  our  way  out  over  tlu!  slijjpery  bhuhh'r-wced,  which 
fastens  itself  so  strongly  to  every  stone  and  every  crevice,  to  the  farthest 
bulges  where  ;i  new  growth  of  the  edible  sea-moss  begins,  though  from  its  coal- 
black  color  we  should  never  have  imagined 
it  to  be  the  sanu'  thing  we  have  bought  of 
our  grocer  at  home.  Yet  when  exposed  to 
sun  and  dew  it  turns  first  a  lovidy  Tyrian 
l)urple,  then  as  Avhite  as  sea-foam  itself. 
These  plants  give  out  a  moist,  pungent,  and 
penetrating,  though  not  uni)leasant  odor, 
that  is  new  to  us,  —  something  between  that 
arising  from  the  steaming  mould  and  nox- 
ious fungi  of  the  woods  and  the  smoke  of 
burning  brushwood  in  the  autmun. 

We  are  now  among  those  secret  nooks 
and  craniues,  the  garden  of  the  sea,  that 
seem  to  us  like  the  fairyland  of  our  boy- 
hood dreams,  where  little  basins  of  licjuid  crystal  disclose  the  strange  forms  and 
tints  of  sea-urchins  and  startishes,  of  limpets  and  cockles,  where  the  yellow, 
black,  and  purple  striped  cockles  cling,  like  monster  insects,  to  the  bladder-weed, 
and  where  every  step,  in  fact,  shows  us  a  thousand  authentic  tidings  of  invisible 
things,  — 

"  Of  ebb  and  flow  and  ever-dnring  power, 
And  endless  peace  subsisting  at  the  heart  of  endless  agitation." 

Stooping  down  over  this  shallow  pool  of  crystal  water,  we  espy,  first  of  all, 
our  own  features,  and  next  a  sedentary  cral)  who  is  watching  us  uneasily  from 
his  snug  retreat  under  a  i)rojecting  shelf  of  rock,  all  ready  to  make  off  at 
our  slightest  movement. 

"  Ha,  ha !  art  thou  there,  truepenny  ?  " 

The  coward  dare  not  venture  out  of  his  hiding-place  for  fear  some  thief  of 
a  crow  may  pounce  upon  him,  and  fly  away  with  him  to  her  lonely  haunt  in 
yonder  woods,  as  the  great  roc  did  with  our  dear  old  friend  Sinbad,  in  the 
"Thousand  and  One  Nights."  So  crabby  wisely  keeps  close,  knowing  that  his 
stout  breast  and  back-piece,  proof  though  they  may  be  against  beak  and  claws, 
will  avail  him  nothing  when  the  keen-witted  crow  shall  have  first  flown  up  with 
him  to  a  convenient  height,  and  then  let  him  fall  headlong  upon  the  hard  rocks, 
crushed  and  bleeding,  to  make  a  meal  of  at  her  leisure. 


(HAH. 


III 


r" 


100 


THE  PINE-TREE   COAST. 


Kegainiuf,'  tlic  liifj;h  ground,  wo  iioxt  como  to  a  colony  of  grisly  cedars  that 
have  withstood  the  gales  of  centuries,  iiu<l  though  still  vigorous,  are  so  shorn  of 
all  pride  of  leafage  as  to  seem  more  like  sturdy  vagrants  than  respectable  trees. 
Memory  of  num  goes  not  back  to  the  time  when  they  did  not  stand  here  just  as 
weird  and  fantastical ooking  as  they  do  to-duy.  Like  very  old  men,  they  seem 
doomed  to  live  on  and  o'.i,  in  spite  of  themselves. 

We  have  now  gained  the  breezy  headland  overlooking  Sandy  Cove  at  tlie 
east.  From  this  point  Cape  Porpoise  light  peeps  out  among  the  bewildering 
maze  of  broken  reef  and  tossing  foam. 

In  going  half  the  length  of  the  cove  we  shall  come  to  the  natural  curiosity 
known  to  all  the  country  round  as  the  Bouncing  Kock,  but  which  a  literary 


THE    nOUNCING    HOCK. 


friend,  who  knows  how  to  engrave  a  word  as  well  as  another,  has  turned  into 
Blowing  Cave. 

At  this  place  the  sea  has  undermined  the  softer  trap-rock,  which  one  so 
often  sees  sandwiched  in  between  the  masses  of  granite.  Having  thus  bored  a 
deep  hole  in  the  rock,  the  waves  rush  Avith  violence  into  the  opening,  but  are 
instantly  shot  out  again  by  the  compressed  air,  in  a  cloud  of  the  finest  spray, 
and  with  a  hollow  roar  that  at  night  sometimes  startles  one  by  its  resemblance 
to  the  booming  of  a  minute  gun. 

Of  course  the  display  is  at  its  best  when  the  sea  is  running  high  outside ;  for 
then  the  big  waves  follow  each  other  in  quick  succession,  while  the  incessant 
detonations  of  the  rock,  \vith  the  water-smoke  consto-.^tly  rising  in  huge,  vapory 
piiffs  about  it,  strengthen  the  illusion  of  a  fortress  beleaguered  by  all  the 
powers  of  sea  and  air.  The  best  time  to  see  the  display  is  at  half-flood  or 
half-ebb. 


AT  KENNEHINKI'ORT. 


101 


'  The  class  of  vessels  called  barf|ueB  was  unknown  to  tlie  early  part  of  the  century.  Tliey, 
however,  took  the  place  of  the  '-snow,"  so  called,  which  had  a  somewhat  similar  rij,'.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  century  sliips  were  rarely  of  more  than  2(M)  tons  burden.  One  of  JMM) 
was  considered  a  lari;«'  ship.  Forty  years  later,  sIujjs  of  the  lar.L'cst  class  sometimes  registered 
40(»  tons;  seldom  more.  IJut  from  that  time  to  the  present  the  iiu  lease  in  size  and  tonnage 
has  been  marked.  I  find  that  the  ship  Guitlimoziu,  which  was  built  here  in  the  year  1H(M),  is 
put  down  as  of  211  tons,  while  the  Philcixt  WhiKhitc,  launched  in  187(1,  measured  2117  tons. 
Sinc((  this  chai»t«'r  was  written  there  has  been  some  little  revival  in  the  prosjjects  of  shij)- 
huilding  along  shore,  though  the  demand  is  mostly  limited  to  vessels  suitabh^  for  the  coasting 
trade. 

2  This  "Mitchell  house,"  which  has  been  kept  in  excellent  repair,  was  designated  as  a 
garrison,  it  is  said.  It  stands  between  the  sea-road  and  river,  a  little  below  the  railroad 
crossing. 

='  Th(^  channel  here  was  narrow,  crooked,  and  shifting  with  every  bad  gale.  Vessels 
coming  ill  had  to  discharge  part  of  their  cargoes  first ;  and  those  going  out  to  linish  their 
lading  outside  the  bar,  at  the  mouth.  It  was  attempted  to  remedy  these  evils  by  constructing 
timber  jners  in  17(»K,  the  undertakers  having  the  right  to  levy  a  small  tonnage  tax  on  ves.sels 
passing  in  or  out.  The  company  was  linally  forced  to  surrender  its  charter.  The  work  was 
then  as.sumed  by  the  government,  and  the  present  piers  were  built  of  granite,  obtained  from 
quarries  situated  about  two  miles  back  from  the  river.  The  opening  of  these  (]uarries  h'd  to 
the  sudden  rise  an<l  e(iually  siuklen  collapse  of  another  industry,  as  they  were  too  far  from 
tide-water  to  be  i>rofitable. 

*  During  the  great  gale  of  November  25,  18HH,  a  small  iishing-vessel  was  dashed  to 
pieces  between  the  piers  while  trying  to  work  into  the  river.  The  three  men  comiiosing  the 
crew  were  lucky  enough  to  get  ashore. 

6  See  Shakspeare's  "  King  Lear,"  Act  II.  Scene  ii. 

'■'  It  was  printed  at  C'aMd)ri(lge,  Knglaml,  by  the  rniversity  printer,  in  lO.'W.  The  (kite  is 
gone  from  the  title-page,  but  is  found  at  the  beginning  of  the  New  Testament,  where  the  new 
title-page  is  scrawled  all  over  with  the  names  of  different  owners. 

'  Bonnybeag  is  a  great  landmark  for  fishermen.  The  land  rises  all  the  way  from  the 
coast,  making  the  ridge  of  which  it  forms  part  stand  ipiite  high,  though  Uonnybeag  itself  is 
only  a  hill  when  you  get  to  it.  The  summit  commands  all  the  ocean  between  Cape  Elizabeth 
and  the  Nubble.  It  is  a  shelly  .;;neiss  covered  with  a  scrubby  growth.  On  the  summit  there 
is  a  cave,  called  the  "Devil's  Den,"  in  which  five  or  six  persons  find  standing-room.  Konny- 
beag  is,  I  think,  the  Three  Turks'  Heads  mentioned  by  Winthrop.  Great  Works  Hiver  issues 
from  Bonnybeag  Pond. 

^  Two  authors,  Mr.  J.  T.  Trowbridge  and  I'rofessor  J.  B.  McMaster,  have  chosen  this 
locality  for  their  summer  residence. 


I 


!:3 


1 


■  1-2 


if! 


A4 


r 


imm 


IV.  I 


OLD    c'i;UAi!s.   c.vri;   roiti'oisi:. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

THE    STOHV    OK    CAl'K    PORPOISE. 

"  The  iiitister,  the  swabber,  tlie  boatswain  and  I, 
The  guuuer  and  the  mate."  —  Tempest. 

YELLOW,  black,  and  purple  striped  eunners  swarm  ahout  these  rocks.  It 
is  best  to  use  a  rod  here,  on  account  of  the  entangling  rock-weed.  Ftn- 
bait  you  have  only  to  break  ott"  the  barnacles  adhering  to  the  rocks.  Large  cod 
are  often,  taken  in  the  cove  by  simply  casting  the  line  out  into  deep  water,  with- 
out attaching  a  sinker.  I  once  saw  five  beauties,  the  largest  weighing  seven 
pounds,  hauled  in  from  l^ill  Tynham's  Hock  in  a  few  minutes.  But  the  haddock 
is  the  best  of  all  fish  for  a  cliow<ler,  because  its  flesh  is  so  white,  firm,  and  flaky. 
And  who  has  sung  its  praises  like  our  own  world-renowned  Mrs.  Partington  '.' 

"  oh,  chowder  !  monarch  of  the  stews  — 

AVith  onion  tinctured  —  I  am  fain, 
IJy  aid  of  my  enraptured  muse, 

To  sound  thy  virtues  in  a  strain  ; 
The  nation's  fjlory,  greatest  dish 

By  art  conceived  and  born  of  fisli  !  " 

Just  back  of  the  grove,  under  some  spreading  oaks,  there  is  a  pretty  picnic 

ground  to  which  the  people  of  the  country  round  have  resorted,  time  out  of 

mind,  for  their  annual  chowdfn-  ])arties.     It  is  a  custom,  borrowed,  no  doubt, 

from  those  earlier  visitors,  whc  have  left  traces  of  their  rude  feasts  in  the 

102 


THE   STOUY  UF  CAPE   rOUPOISE. 


103 


shell-heaps  seen  all  up  and  down  the  coa»t.  In  high  glee,  the  party  drive  up  to 
the  spot  and  dismount.  The  men  go  to  tlie  roeks  or  fetch  fire-wood.  The  girls 
go  to  the  neigliboring  spring.  The  matrons  put  the  kettle  on.  Fish  are  caught, 
water  brought,  and  fires  liglited.  Meanwhile,  the  girls  have  spread  a  c^lean  cloth 
on  the  thick  turf.  When  all  is  ready,  a  fish-horn  brings  in  all  stragglers  to 
the  si)ot.  Then,  with  appetites  sharpened  by  the  delicious  smell  of  the  chow- 
der, all  crowd  round  the  steaming  kettle,  while  the  goodwife  who  presides 
over  its  savory  contents  stirs  and  tastes  again  and  again  with  all  the  tantaliz- 
ing deliberation  of  a  chef  who  feels  his  reputation  at  stake.  At  last  she  gives 
the  mixture  a  final  stir,  and,  with  a  flourish  of  her  ladle,  pronounces  it  done. 
Then  to  the  feast ! 

Daniel  Webster  is  said  to  liave  been  more  vain  of  his  skill  in  making  a 
chowder  than  of  his  famous  Hulseman  letter.  N.  P.  Willis,  who  could  make  a 
chowder  as  well  as  a  verse,  has  left  a  recipe.  It  is  a  dish  of  which  even  Lucul- 
lus  was  ignorant. 

The  high  ground  at  the  head  of  this  cove  shows  some  old  bramble-grown 
hollows  that  were  once  cellars,  but  no  one  now  remembers  either  the  houses  or 
their  tenants.  The  same  thing  may  be  seen 
for  miles  along  the  shore,  to  certify  that  all 
but  the  sea  is  barren  here.  There  is  no  deny- 
ing, however,  that  they  awaken  strange 
thoughts  of  those  who  have  gone  before  us, 
and  who  gave  up  in  despair  all  hope  of  ex- 
torting a  livelihood  from  such  a  waste.  By 
the  same  token,  it  calls  forth  a  smile  to  see 
those  same  spots  so  eagerly  sought  after 
to-day.  Beware  the  poison  ivy  ! '  It  loves 
these  old  hollows  which  every  wholesome 
thing  has  shunned. 

Before  leaving  the  neighborhood,  it  will  be  worth  our  while  to  take  a  look 
at  the  rocks  of  the  north  shore,  which,  at  low  tide,  spread  out  acres  upon  acres 
of  jagged  ledges,  bhuskened  as  by  fire,  ripped  up  as  by  an  eartlupuike,  some- 
times set  upright  in  ragged  rows,  like  grave-stones,  sometimes  ri'sembling  the 
broken  tusks  of  some  prehistoric  monster  that  has  been  turned  to  stone,  but 
can  still  bite  and  tt'ar  whatever  the  sea  throws  into  its  grinning  jaws.  Is  it 
possible,  we  ask,  that  water,  and  water  alone,  lias  done  all  this  ?  And  if  so, 
what  chance  would  the  stoutest  ship  that  ever  floated  have  ? 

It  was  only  a  year  or  two  ago,  that  a  north-bound  schooner  stru(!k  heavily 
on  ]»unkin  Island  reef.  Look  off,  a  short  mile  out,  where  the  sea  breaks  so 
viciously  at  the  right  of  yonder  island  I  That  is  the  very  place.  It  was  a  dark 
winter's  night,  —  just  what  the  sailor  most  dreads,  —  with  a  cold needle-pohited 
drizzle  freezing  to  everything  as  it  fell,  and  the  wind  blowing  a  stiff  gale  from 
the  northeast.  The  ca])tain  had  lost  his  reckoning,  —  in  fact,  he  was  standing 
straight  for  the  laud  without  knowing  it ;  so  before  any  one  thought  of  danger. 


POISON    IVY. 


■i  i; 


M 


■  f 


ipj 
ill 


104 


THE  PINE-TREE   COAST. 


the  vessel  was  on  the  reef,  among  the  roaring  breakers,  where  no  seamanship 
could  avail.  The  crew  gave  themselves  up  for  lost,  as  every  monster  breaker 
that  drove  in  over  the  reef  lifted  the  doomed  vessel  clear  of  the  rocks,  only  to 
let  her  dow  n  again  with  a  crash  that  threatened  to  break  every  timber  in  her 
stout  frame.  AVood  and  iron  could  not  long  Avithstand  that  pounding.  Fearing 
that  the  masts  would  fall  and  kill  them,  the  sailors  kept  below,  and  in  terror 
watched  for  the  moment  when  the  wreck  should  go  to  pieces,  and  all  be  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  waves.  A  miracle  saved  them.  The  schooner  actually  pounded 
over  the  reef  into  deeper  water,  where,  though  foundering,  she  still  kept  afloat. 
Once  free  of  the  rocks,  she  drove  right  on  till  this  ragged  shore  again  brought 
her  up,  and  this  time  held  her  fast.  She  soon  went  to  pieces.  I  saw  her  stem 
sticking  up  among  the  rocks  where  her  perilous  voyage  had  ended.  When  the 
tide  fell,  the  crew  got  safe  ashore.  At  four  in  the  morning  the  inmates  of  the 
Cleaves  cottage  were  aroused  by  a  loud  knocking.  When  the  door  was  unbarred, 
there  stood  the  shipwrecked  sailors.  It  was  the  first  notice  the  family  had  of 
the  tragedy  being  enacted  almost  at  their  doors. 


PLACE    OF   THE    WRECK,    WITH   CAPE    PORPOISE    LIGHT. 

This  does  not  complete  the  catalogue  of  disasters;  for  during  Thanksgiving 
week  of  the  year  1886  two  vessels  went  on  the  rocks  of  Cape  Porpoise,  while 
trying  to  make  that  harbor.  One  of  them  struck  at  about  nine  o'clock  at 
night.  It  was  indeed  a  fearful  night,  Avheu  all  landsmen  vrere  glad  to  keep 
within  doors.  When  day  broke  on  the  dismal  scene,  scarce  two  pieces  of  the 
wreck  were  left  hanging  together.  Fortunately  there  was  no  loss  of  life, 
though  the  sailors  only  kept  themselves  from  freezing  by  walking  up  and  down 
the  island  all  through  the  long  winter  night,  till  at  daybreak  the  light-kee2)er 
discovered  and  took  them  oif. 

It  is  pleasant  to  follow  the  paths  winding  in  and  out  among  the  thickset 
clumps  of  fragrant  bayberry,  through  which  the  hardy  raspberry  and  blackberry 
push  their  ripening  clusters  of  fruit ;  picking  a  flower  here  or  a  berry  there, 
in  the  long  summer  afternoons,  and  watch  the  reluctant  twilight  draw  down  its 
gray  curtain  over  the  misty  sea ;  but  pleasanter  still,  I  think,  are  those  clear- 
cut  days  of  early  autumn,  —  days  bright,  and  crisp,  and  full  of  invigorating 
tonic,  —  when  these  pastures  are  resplendent  with  the  bloom  of  golden-rod,  aster. 


THE   STORY   OF   CAl'E   POUPOISE. 


105 


and  spirsea,  and  every  clump  shows  a  bewildering  melange  of  colors.  Com- 
mon ?  Ah,  yes  ;  if  they  were  only  rare,  how  people  would  go  into  ecstasies  over 
them,  and  how  highly  we  should  prize  them ! 

At  no  time  is  the  shore  visited  with  keener  delight  than  in  autumn. 
In  the  sjiring  we  may  cull  a  nosegay,  in  summer  a  bouquet,  but  in  autumn  we 
may  have  flowers  by  the  armful. 

])Ut  when  on  some  morning  late  in  October  the  moist  meads  are  sparkling 
with  rime,  it  is  the  gentian  that  comes  blossoming  on  the  threshold  of  winter, 
as  if  to  reconcile  us  to  the  change  we  dread  so  much. 

"  Thou  waitest  late  ami  com'.st  alone, 
When  W(5ocls  are  bare,  ami  birds  are  flown, 
And  frosts  and  shortening  days  portend 
The  aged  year  is  near  his  end. 

"Then  doth  thy  sweet  and  (juiet  eye 
Look  through  its  fringes  to  the  sky. 
Blue  —  blue  as  if  that  sky  let  fall 
A  flower  from  its  cerulean  wall." 

All  summer  we  have  seen  the  peripatetic  Indian  pulling  up  the  sweet- 
grass  with  which  the  squaws  make  various  small  Avares  much  in  recjuest  by  the 
summer  visitors.  It  grows  abundantly  about  here,  and  tufts  of  it  are  often 
seen  ornamenting  the  best  rooms  of  the  village,  in  place  of  the  traditional  fly- 
catching  asparagus  branch  of  our  grandmothers.  And  in  many  places  about 
the  roads  the  caraway  shows  flrst  its  cluster  of  delicate  white  flowers,  and  then 
its  bearded  seed-stalk,  to  remind  us  of  the  old-fashioned  seed-cakes  of  which  we 
were  so  fond. 

I  will  simply  add,  in  passing  from  a  theme  I  love  so  well,  that  the  gentian 
made  its  flrst  appearance  in  this  region  about  ten  years  ago.  Before  that  time, 
though  I  had  often  looked  for  it,  I  had  never  found  it.  Nobody  seemed  to 
know  what  it  was  when  it  was  found,  or  hold  it  in  any  esteem  whatever,  \intil 
the  summer  boarder  proclaimed  it  the  "  beloved  of  souls  that  are  epicures  of 
poesy."    Now  its  praises  are  on  every  tongue. 

Cape  Porpoise  village  is  built  around  the  shores  of  its  harbor,  which  a 
cluster  of  large  and  small  islands  protects.  On  one  of  them  stands  the  baby 
lighthouse  of  the  coast.^  Vhis  harbor — or  perhaps  we  should  say  harbors,  since 
there  are  two  basins  —  is  remarkable  for  being  the  only  one  between  Portsmouth 
and  the  Saco,  though  the  danger  of  attempting  to  run  into  it  in  bad  weather  needs 
no  further  illustration  than  is  furnished  by  the  disasters  just  now  related. 

Stage  Island  is  naturally  a  place  of  some  interest  on  acct)unt  of  its  having 
been  the  home  of  the  fishermen  who  first  spread  their  flakes  and  built  their 
cabins  among  the  rocks  here.  The  bottom  being  all  hard  sand,  one  may  cross 
the  harbor  to  the  island  at  low  tide,  as  the  Israelites  did  the  Red  Sea.  The 
outermost  section  of  this  island  contains  only  a  few  acres.  There  are  some  old 
briar-choked  cellars  here  of  unknown  date ;  also  a  headland  commanding  the 


106 


THE  riNE-TRKK   COAST. 


il  I 


north  coast  as  far  as  Cape  Elizabeth.     Tradition  says  this  was  the  burial-i)hice 

of  the  first  settlers  here,  bnt  in  that  case  the  graves  must  have  been  washed 

into  the  sea  long  ago,  for  there  is  now  no  trace  of  tlieui. 

Obscure  as  its  early  history  is,  —  and  that  sliould  not  greatly  surprise  lis 

when   we   consider   what   the    character  of   its  early   po])ulati(ni  was,  —  Cape 

\  I'orpoise ''  was  no  less 

the  original  settlement 
of  what  is  now  Keinie- 
bunk])()rt.  Tliat  at  the 
village  grew  up  so  long 
afterwards  as  to  be  in 
no  way  associated  with 
the  desperate  struggle 
to  hold  these  few  acres 
of  barren  rocks  against 
the  e(pially  determined 
effort  to  drive  all  the 
English  back  into  the 
sea,  whence  they  had 
come.  Some  of  the 
older  people  remem- 
Ikv  the  ruins  of  the 
antdent  fort  that  stood 
on  Stage  Island,  which, 
in  its  day,  had  served 
as  a  refuge  from  the 
savages,  but  of  which 
not  one  stone  now  re- 
mains on  another.  The 
name  Stage  Island  is 
an  all-sufficient  guide 
to  til 'J  purpose  for 
which  it  was  first  occu- 
pied. It  was  a  good 
place  to  dry  fish,  and 

fortress. 
For  a  long  time  the  domestic  history  of  this  place  is  a  blank,  in  consequence 
of  the  loss  of  its  earliest  records.  When  they  do*  begin,  the  name  of  God  is 
frequently  found  spelled  with  a  little  "  g."  Indeed,  about  all  that  can  now  be 
gathered  of  that  early  life  comes  to  us  in  the  form  of  remonstrance,  complaint, 
or  reproof  from  the  governing  power ;  so  that,  much  to  our  regret,  we  can  only 
infer  what  its  primitive  condition  was  like.  All  this,  ])erhaps,  sufficiently  char- 
acterizes cue  of  those  isolated  and  primitive  communities,  existing  almost  with- 


THE   STORY   OF    CAl'E   rORI'OISE. 


107 


out  law,  but  keeping  just  within  its  limits,  heedinsi;  its  burden  more  thnn  its 
restraints,  with  tVw  wants,  fewer  ambitions,  and  no  education,  and  naturally 
foUowing  out  the  simple  traditions  of  the  fathers  as  their  guide.  Two  and  a 
half  centviries  have  by  no  means  eradicati  a  all  those  primitive  traits. 

When  King  William's  "War  broke 
out  the  allied  tribes,  whom  the  French 
supplied  with  guns  and  missionaries, 
rosaries  and  scali)ing-knives,  marked   ^nr*'^'-— -^ 
for   destruction  all    the  coast  settle- 


WAU-CLl  II    AM)   AXK. 


AKUOWS. 


ments  in  this  unlucky  province,  and 

oidy  just   failed  of  their  purpose  to  extirpate  them   root   and   branch,   Cape 

Porpoise  with  the  rest. 

Again,  in  1(190,  the  savages  appeared  at  Cape  Porpoise  in  force. 
This  time  they  came  with  fleets  and  armies,  with  intent  to  do  their 
work  thoroughly.  Those  inhabitants  who  lived  outside  the  defences 
had  to  fly  for  their  lives.  The  rest  shut  themselves  up  in  their  fort 
on  Stage  Island,  where,  though  sorely  pressed,  they  held  out  until  a 
vessel  could  be  sent  to  take  them  off.  When  she  sailed  into  the  harbor, 
the  beleaguered  settlers  had  rammed  down  their  last  bullet  and  had 
swallowed  their  last  mouthful.  All  owed  their  lives  to  the  heroism 
of  a  comrade  who,  though  wounded  by  a  musket-ball,  with  Spartan 
bravery  paddled  a  leaky  canoe  all  the  way  to  Portsmouth,  and  so  made 
known  their  desperate  situation. 
After  this  unlucky  stroke  the  settlement  remained  a  solitude  for  nearly  ten 
years,  — almost  long  enough  for  its  return  to  a  state  of  nattire.  At  the  end  of 
this  period  some  of  the  refugees  ventured  back  to 
their  broken  hearthstones,  but  upon  the  renewal  of 
hostilities,  in  Qiuhmi  Anne's  time,  the  phiee  was  again 
attacked  in  August,  170.'},  by  a  war-party  of  French 
and  Indians,  who  a  second  time  laid  it  waste,  once 
more  driving  the  settlers  from  their  homes. 

This  second  depopulation  continued  until  the  re- 
turn of  peace.  In  1719  the  Cai)e  settlement  was 
re-established  with  the  name  of  Arundel,  so  supersed- 
ing the  old  one  given  to  it  nearly,  if  not  ijuite,  a 
hundred  years  before. 

Short  breathing-time  was  allowed  these  impover- 
ished people  for  rejtairing  the  ravages  of  war.  Love- 
well's  War  presently  brought  down  upon  them  a  new 
train  of  calamities.  Anticipating  that  the  enemy 
would  first  strike  in. this  exposed  (puirter,  the  colonial 
authorities  now  exhorted  the  people  to  stand  firm  and  fight  it  out  to  the  last. 
Had  it  been  accompanied  with  the  means  proper  to  its  execution,  the  advice 
was  excellent. 


CIIKESE-I'HKSS. 


■'i 


t  ■  -I  •if 

11,1 


!  ,  >l  J 


108 


THE   I'INE-TKEE    COAST. 


In  August,  1723,  the  Indians  again  began  their  old  work  of  slaughter  at  the 
Cape.  When  they  first  showed  themselves,  the  garrisons  were  so  weakly 
manned  that  even  the  women  put  on  men's  clothes  and  took  their  turns  at 
mounting  guard,  in  order  to  deceive  the  enemy.'* 

Tlie  ."tory  is  now  less  picturescpu",  though  far  more  gi-ateful  to  narrate,  than 
the  previous  chapter  of  strife  and  bhxtdshed.  The  town  presently  voted  to 
build  a  meeting-house,  but,  as  its  historian  njlively  remarks,  the  matter  was 
put  off  until  the  shook  of  an  eartlupiake  —  by  much  the  most  frightful  that 
had  happened  within  the  memory  of  man  — l)rought  it  u]>  again. 


OLD   MILLDAM,    I'OOL    UOAD. 


Then,  a  dispute  having  arisen  between  Cape  Porpoise  and  Wells  about  their 
boundary,  commissioners  on  the  part  of  both  met  at  the  ferry -house,  at  the 
mouth  of  Kennebunk  River,  to  decide  the  matter.  Cape  Porpoise  laid  claim  to 
the  ^Eousam,  then  called  Cape  Porpoise  River,  while  Wells  held  out  for  the 
Ivennebunk  as  her  limit.  It  proved  dry  work,  and  the  bottle  passed  freely. 
Finding  that  the  Cape  Porpoise  men  had  the  better  case,  those  from  Wells 
[)ushed  the  bottle  harder.  The  story  goes  that  the  session  being  long  and 
animated,  the  commissioners  run  up  so  large  a  score  that  the  Cape  Porpoise  men 
were  glad  to  yield  up  the  territory  in  dispute,  in  consideration  of  the  Wells  men 
paying  the  scot.  This  amicable  settlement  was  reached  in  IGGO,  and  has  never 
since  been  disturbed. 

So  far  the  history  of  the  town  has  centred  wholly  in  Cape  Porpoise  and 
its  immediate  vicinity  ;  but  the  time  came  when  the  little  hamlet  at  the  river 


THE   STORY   OF   CAPE   TOUPOISE. 


100 


began  to  assume  an  iniportauce  at  first  rivalling,  then  overslia  lowing,  tlu? 
ancient  settlement  itself. 

This  state  of  things  led  to  a  protracted  struggle  over  the  question  of  erect- 
ing the  village  at  the  river  into  a  new  parish.  The  dispute  waxed  hotter  and 
hotter,  so  Avarm,  indeed,  that  one  night  the  old  meeting-house  at  the  Cape  was 
sot  on  fire  and  burned  to  the  ground.  This  summary  disposition  of  the  tpics- 
tion  led  to  the  Iniilding  of  a  n(!W  house  in  a  situation  equally  remote  fi  ■  u  both 
villages  ;  so  that,  as  in  most  compromist's,  neither  party  got  what  it  wanted, 
but  was  forced  to  be  content  with  putting  its  opponent  to  as  much  incon- 
venience as  itself. 

Tlu!  final  settlement  of  the  long-standing  (^viarrel  determined,  at  least,  the 
future  ascendancy  of  the  village  over  tlu;  Cape. 

During  the  Revolution  a  single  incident  signalled  the  existence  of  actual  war 
at  the  CajJC.  The  contest  was  near  its  close  when  one  day  two  British  cruisers 
made  their  appearance  off  the  harbor,  in  which  two  merchant  vessels  were  then 
lying  at  anchor.  The  enemy  boarded  and  t<  ok  possession  of  lioth,  without 
meeting  the  least  resistance.  The  act  seems,  however,  to  have  incensed  a  half- 
witted fellow  of  the  place,  who  rowed  off  to  tht;  vessels  and  boldly  demanded 
their  release.  He  was  fired  at,  and  badly  wounded  for  his  pains.  This  was  the 
signal  for  an  uprising.  The  Cape  men  rallied  at  once  for  an  attack  on  the 
vessels.  They  ran  first  to  Trcjtt's  Island,  whence  they  crossed  over  to  Goat 
Island  under  a  heavy  fire,  wliicdi,  however,  did  not  stop  them.  Hero  they  ftdl 
in  with  an  armed  party,  who  hadlanded  to  oppose  them.  I^ut  the  blood  of  the 
Cape  men  was  u[).  Stoi)i)ing  for  neither  grape  nor  musketry,  they  aooii  drove 
the  invaders  back  to  their  boats,  with  the  loss  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  men  killed 
and  wounded.  On  the  part  of  the  Cape  men,  the  brave  Captain  Burnham  was 
killed  by  a  ball  in  the  chest.  The  enemy  succeeded  in  getting  one  of  their 
prizes  out  of  the  harbor;  the  other  was  abandoned  and  burnt. 

The  succeeding  years  were  years  of  prosperity,  to  which  the  AVar  of  1812 
put  a  period.  In  1(S21  the  town  was  newly  incorporated  with  the  name  of 
Kennebunkport.  Upon  referring  to  the  causes  which  originally  led  to  the 
change  of  name,  we  find  tliat  they  no  longer  exist.''  From  this  time  forward 
the  history  of  Kennebunkport  is  the  familiar  one  of  details  belonging 
exclusively  to  its  commercial  or  social  life,  and  a  very  uneventful  life  it  has 
been. 

There  is  one  thing  more.  By  the  natural  expansion  of  a  few  families, 
whole  neighborhoods  often  exhibit  a  single  surname,  like  that  of  Wildes  or 
Huff.  There  may  be  half  a  dozen  persons  of  the  same  Christian  name.  The 
surname  being  dr()])ped  among  themselves,  it  has  an  odd  effect  to  hear  tliem 
speaking  of  each  other  as  ]\Iiss  ]\[ary  Clem,  Aunt  Sally  Josh,  Aunt  Hannah 
Eben,  Aunt  Sam  Paulina,  and  so  on,  all  being  of  one  surname.  Then  the 
archaic  words  or  idioms  in  every-day  use,  of  vagrant  or  unknown  origin,  would 
set  a  college  of  comparative  philology  wild  with  delight. 


|:i. 


Ilii 


fl 


ill 


fh 


110 


TiiK  1'1Ni;-I'|{i;k  coast. 


'  Till'  leaf  of  tlie  Morcury,  (irpoi.soii  ivy,  is  obviitc,  not  serrated.  This  plant  grows  aiuoiig 
stone- walls,  stune-heaps,  old  cellars,  and  the  like,  but  is  sometimes  seen  creepin;^  among  \\w 
grass  in  old  itiirial-gronnds.  It  has  a  general  resend)lanee  to  the  N'irginia  creeper,  and  like  it 
turns  ;:  beautiful  liriglit  icd  in  the  antunni.  Some  people  think  lliat  the  jmiIsou  is  so  malig- 
nant tiiiit  it  can  be  taken  by  merely  passing  the  jilant.  it  tlie  wind  l)iii\vs  the  virus  tuwiird  tla; 
passer,  witlidut  either  handling  or  touching  the  plain.  No  ddubt  sonu'  are  more  susceptible 
to  the  p  )isi)n  than  others.  There  ai'e  two  sorts,  — one  having  three,  and  the  other  five  leaves, 
whicli  ar.'  crinkled.  A  case  of  poisoning  may  be  cured  by  applying  carboli/.ed  vaseline  or  any 
.simph^  carbDlic,  salve. 

-The  lighthouse  stands  on  (ioat  Island;  it  was  built  in  \X-'A.  The  otiier  islands  aic  : 
IJunkiu  (most  westward),  N'aughan's,  (Jreen's,  KoUy,  and  Trott's. 

•'  The  name  Cajie  l'orpois(!  is  referred  to  as  early  as  U'f2i  by  Levett,  Avho  speaks  of  it  as 
an  e.viM'lient  i)lace  for  fishing,  thougli  he  says  that  "as  yet  no  trial  hath  been  made  '"  ;  showing 
tills  ("ape  to  have  been  known  and  named  before  any  selllement  existed  on  it,  and  dis]>iising 
of  the  tradition  that  then^  was  one  prior  to  Levett's  visit.  It  was  included  in  John  Stratton's 
grant  of  two  thousand  acres  in  Ki.'U.  Though  incorpoi'ated  in  l(i.'):i,  yet  so  late  as  to  l(i7I  the 
settlers  had  neglected  to  lay  out.  the  town  boundaries  or  make  roads  when  ordered.  A  con- 
siderable business  is  done  hei-e  in  winter  in  catching  lobsters  for  the  Xew  "V'ork  market,  but 
the  laws  made  for  the  ])n>tection  of  this  fish  are  but  little  regarded.  At  that  season  the  lobster 
may  be  shipped  alive  in  barrels. 

■*  The  (thief  Wahwa  nuule  another  unsuccessful  attem])t  at  tins  time  to  surprise  Harding's 
garrison.  Hut  in  the  following  April  three  men  were  shot  in  its  viciiuty.  The  victims  were 
buried  near  the  clump  of  ledges  (Ihulaiul's  Hocks)  lying  back  of  the  .N'onantmn  House. 

"  Ivenncibunk  had  been  the  name  of  the  Federal  customs  district  in  which  Wells,  .\rundel, 
and  Capo  Porpoise  were  included,  the  custom-house  being  located  at  what,  is  now  Keniu'bniik 
village.  Thiidving  themselves  best  entitled  to  it,  the  Arundel  people  also  wished  to  take  the 
name  of  Kennidiinik,  laU  being  anticiiiated  by  the  action  of  the  seceders  from  Wells,  when 
they  were  set  off,  and  named  their  new  town  Kennebunk,  .\nuidel  still  strove  to  retain  jires- 
tig<!  as  the  jiort  of  Kennebunk  ;  hence  the  i)resent  name  of  Kennebunkport.  I-"or  a  fuller  rec- 
ord th(!  reader  is  referred  to  Hradbury's  "  Ili.story  of  Kennebunkport,"  whicli  is  brought  dowti 
to  the  year  1837,  or  to  Jndge  Ronrne's  "  Wells  and  Kennebunk,"  which  gives  many  details  per- 
taiinng  to  the  conunou  history  of  these  two  communities. 


ASlIUIii:    AT   XIMUEU   IHLAND, 


CHArTEll   VTTT. 


I'.IDDKI'dIM)     I'OOL. 


,!j,'ii 


Tlien  a  mill'  'if  wiinii,  sea-scented  beach."  —  Mkowmno. 


BEYOND  Cape  Torpoise  we  come  to  the  bight  of  shaHow  water  owninj,'  the 
name  of  Goose  Kocks  I'ay.  A  chister  of  isolated  ledges  shows  above 
water  a  little  way  out  from  the  land.  The  first  comers  seized  upon  this  a.s  the 
distinguishing  feature,  and  Christopher  Levett's  remark  about  the  abundance 
of  sea-fowl  he  saw  here  ]»robably  sup])lies  the  missing  link  touching  th(^  name 
itself. 

The  coast,  darkly  bordered  by  a  growth  of  low,  scrubby  pines,  stn^tches  on 
to  another  protruding  headland  at  the  east,  from  which  a  small  island  presently 
detaches  itself.  This  headland  is  called  Fortune's  Rocks,  and  the  island  is 
Timber  Island.  Two  small  streams,  Batson's  River  and  Little  River,  both 
marshy  at  their  mouths,  where  they  receive  the  tide,  fall  into  this  bay. 

At  nearly  every  turn  we  take,  a  clump  of  gravestones  —  remorseless 
reminders  of  the  road  we  are  all  travelling  —  starts  \i\)  to  confront  us.  This 
periucious  practice  of  burj'ing  the  dead  in  the  home  lot  is,  I  am  happy  to 
say,  passing  away.     It  still  obtains,  however,  to  some  extent  in  the  country, 

111 


r-^= 


112 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


I* 


SO  m.aking  tlie  undertaker's  business  much  less  lucrative  than  in  the  cities,  where 
that  functionary  usually  takes  the  whole  estate  of  a  deceased  person ;  inas- 
much as  in  the  country  the  dead  are  sometimes  taken  to  the  place  of  interment 
in  summer  in  a  cart,  in  winter  in  a  pung. 

Tliis  allusion  to  graveyards  naturally  suggests  a  bit  of  folk-lore  still  current 
in  some  out-of-the-way  corners.  Some  women  lay  claim — and  the  claim  is  not 
restricted  to  superauiuuited  crones  as  of  old  —  that  no  death  can  occur  unless 
they  have  had  "  a  warning,"  as  they  term  it.  Exactly  what  the  nature  of  this 
warning  may  be,  or  how  manifested,  I  have  yet  to  learn ;  but  I  do  kn(jw  that 
full  faith  is  accorded  to  those  professing  this  gift  of  second  sight.  Among  sea- 
faring people  the  belief  is  also  more  or  less  current  that  a  sick  person  will  nut 
die  till  the  tide  ebbs. 

The  lonely  road  by  which  one  gets  from  Cape  Porpoise  to  the  Goose  Rocks 
is  a  succession  of  crooks  and  turns  among  bare  ledges,  of  winding  through  hill 
and  dale,  with  now  and  then  a  distant  glim])se  of  the  sea  o]»t'ning  from  the 

brow  of  some  windy  hill,  or  out  across  the 
yellow  marshes.  The  rivers  have  dwindled 
to  large  brooks,  which  come  foaming  down 
their  narrow  gorges  with  sufficient  force  to 
turn  a  mill-wheel.  The  water  power  and 
adjacent  marshes  show  us  what  brought 
settlers  here  at  a  very  early  date,  though 
what  has  kept  them  here  all  these  years  is 
not  so  clear,  if  one  were  to  judge  from  the 
forlorn  look  of  the  straggling  settlement 
we  are  passing  through.     That,  however,  is  no  affair  of  (tui's. 

At  a  cross-roads  hamlet,  where  a  tall  guideboard  "lifts  its  head  and  lies,'' 
after  the  manner  of  most  country  guideboards,  we  turn  down  a  by-road  leading 
to  the  beach,  finding  on  our  arrival  there  a  public  house,  with  a  colony  of  small 
though  neat  cottages  ranged  along  the  continuous  groves  and  hillocks.  The 
open  sea  is  again  before  us,  but  it  is  a  sea  Avithout  a  sail,  as  even  the  fishermen 
avoid  these  shallow  waters,  which  a  moderate  breeze  soon  tumbles  about  in 
short,  choppy  Avaves,  and  a  gale  sets  in  the  Avildest  commotion.  The  beach 
itself  is  hard,  fine-grained  sand,  Avith  so  gentle  a  slope  to  the  Avater  that  bathing 
should  be  quite  safe. 

Timber  Island  uoav  lies  just  opposite  us.  It  Avas  on  a  ledge  at  the  eastern- 
most point  of  this  island  that  the  good  ship  Governor  Robie,  one  hundred  and 
thirty-five  days  from  Japan,  struck  one  thick  March  morning,  and  Avas  brought 
up  "all  standing,"  as  sailors  say.  It  had  been  bloAving  and  raining  all  the 
previous  day  and  night,  — in  fact,  it  Avas  doAvnright  dirty  Aveather,  — but  not  for 
a  moment  Avould  an  old  salt  have  condescended  to  call  it  a  gale,  or  have 
cleAved  up  anything  to  speak  of,  on  account  of  it.  When  the  captain  turned  in, 
he  supposed  the  ship  to  be  tAventy  miles  from  the  nearest  land !  Thousands 
visited  the  scene  of  the  disaster,  some  secretly  hoping  the  vessel  Avould  go  to 


f^B^^^B 


'.r^.. 


GATE,    POOL    RO.M). 


UIDDKFUUIJ    I'OUL. 


ii;i 


pieces;  some,  like  ourselves,  out  of  curiosity  to  see  a  full-rij,'ge(l  ship,  with  every- 
thin;,'  us  souud  iu  :ipi)etiniuce  alow  ami  aloft  as  whcu  she  first  wcut  to  sea, 
stauding  \i\)  ou  the  nn-f  as  strai<,'ht  as  a  uionumcut.  After  many  triiils  the 
vessel  was  jmllcd  off,  much  to  the  disappointnu'Ut  of  tlu;  land-sharks  along 
shore,  who  look  upon  a  wreck  as  their  pecidiar  ])rey.  A  strange  sort  of  etiiics, 
truly  !  If  a  man  should  be  caught  in  the  act  of  robbing  a  wrecked  railway  train, 
he  would  deserve  to  be  lynched  on  the  si)ot,  and  public  sentinuMit  would  doultt- 
less  justify  the  saving  of  tinu'  and  trouble  to  the  state.  l>ut  if  some  unlucky 
ship  nu'ets  a  like  fate,  under  conditions  involving  ])eril,  hardshi]),  and  even 
life  itself,  the  unwritten  code  of  the  shore  delivers  her  up  to  be  plundered  by 
the  first  conuu's.     That  code  needs  revising. 

Tt  is  only  half  a  mile  or  so  nu)re  to  the  summer  colony  at  Fortune's  Kocks, 
though  quite  two  miles  by  the  usually  travidled  road.  Misfortuiu''s  JJocks 
would  seem  a  nu)re  appropriate  name,  for  a  worse  phuie  for  a  shij)  to  strike  on 
could  hardly  be  found  in  a  day's  journey.     For  this  very  reason,  however,  it  is 


WOOn    ISLAM)    LIOIIT. 

exceedingly  picturesque.  If  one  could  fancy  a  gigantic  skeleton  hand  protrud- 
ing above  the  sand  and  shingle,  the  fingers  Avould  crudely  represent  the  knobbed 
ridges  of  hard  granite  that  are  spread  apart  here  in  the  midst  of  a  buffeting 
surge.  P>etweeu  these  bare  ridges  the  sea  has  scooped  out  ragged  coves,  con- 
nected them  by  natural  causeways  of  loose  pebbles,  and  in  a  numner  walled  up 
the  marshes  against  its  own  assaults. 

The  outlook  is  now  toward  lUddeford  Pool.'  It  should  be  explained  that 
this  name  has  attached  itself  to  the  contiguous  shores  as  Avell  as  to  the  basin 
they  enclose,  so  that  Avhen  one  asks  for  the  Pool,  the  village  is  invariably 
pointed  out,  the  dry  land  and  not  the  water. 

The  beach  lying  out  before  us,  and  joining  the  mainland  with  the  Pool  by  a 
narrow  isthmus,  has  given  up  some  of  its  secrets  that  had  lain  buried  no  one 
knows  how  long.     In  an  autumnal  gale  last  year  this  beach  was  deeply  washed 


'  li'  i 


I 


jliti; 


ill 


Ml. 


114 


TIIK   I'INK-THKK   COAST. 


ih 


ii«i 


^i^i 


out  by  the  floods  of  water  pounMl  upon  it  for  several  days  together.  The  re- 
moval of  some  feet  of  sand,  in  this  way,  brought  to  light  the  remains  of  two 
dug-out  boats  such  as  the  early  settlers  sometimes  made  use  of  in  navigating 
the  coast.  The  unlooked-for  reai)])earance  of  such  objects  al)ove  ground,  after 
the  lapse  of  a  century  or  nun-e,  perhaps,  certainly  awakens  strange  thoughts  of 
those  who  have  been  here  before  us. 

(Crossing  the  clean  beach  in  i)reference  to  the  dusty  road,  I  a.^conded  the 
rocky  hillock,  thickly  studded  with  cottages  and  boarding-houst's,  through  which 
streets  somehow  find  their  way,  that  is  at  least  cousin-gernum  to  the  islands 
lying  outside  of  it.  It  is  a  Liliputian  republic,  having  its  own  church  and  scduxd- 
house,  its  petty  commerce  and  expansive  sea-view.  This  is  one  of  the  oldest 
seaside  resorts  of  Maine,  as  it  certainly  is  one  of  the  nu)st  Inviting,  in  some 
respects,  even  if  those  un.accountable  shiftings  of  ])opulation,  to  which  the 
seashore  forms  no  exception,  have  thrown  it  somevhdc  in  the  shade  of  late. 

Upon  gain  ng  the  high  ground,  a  most 
noble  and  exhilaraliug  jjrospect  of  sea  and 
shore  i)resents  itself  at  one  glance.  Here, 
at  our  left,  comes  the  Sa(!o  from  its  moun- 
tain home;  right  before  us,  "Wood  Islatul 
lights  the  entrance,  and  Stage  Island  breaks 
off  the  seas  that  come  rolling  in  toward  the 
river's  mouth  froui  tin;  broad  Atlantic, 
s,  These  form  the  anchorage  known  as  Winter 
Harbor,''  for  Avhich  Wood  Island's  white 
tower*  and  Stage  Island's  gray  beacon 
tell  the  mariner  how  to  steer.  In  the 
distance  are  other  islands,  with  the  Scar- 
borough shore  lifting  over  them  a  bold 
l)romontory.  Turning  now  to  the  land 
between,  we  see  the  whole  curving  expanse 
of  Old  Orchard  lieach  stretched  out  in  the 
warm  sunshine,  like  an  odalistjue  of  the 
sea,  over  whose  slumbers  those  tawny  head- 
lands at  right  and  left,  these  wave-washed  islands,  seem  the  grim  and  watch- 
ful guardians.  Under  fair  skies  the  scene  is  like  a  dream  of  the  Orient,  after 
the  grisly  rocks  that  gird  the  coast  with  bands  of  iron  on  either  side. 

Upon  going  down  to  the  landing-place,  I  found  the  usual  clump  of  crazy 
Hsh-houses  pervaded  by  the  same  "  ancient  and  fish-like  smell  "  whi(;h  so  violently 
assails  one's  nostrils  wherever  fish  and  mcMi  congregate  in  these  latitudes. 
Swarms  of  flies  were  feeding  upon  the  garbage  thrown  down  upon  the  strand, 
for  the  tide  to  take  or  leave  as  it  would.  A  dozen  great  hulking  fellows  sat 
around,  whistling  tunes,  smoking  pipes,  whittling,  or  mending  their  lobster- 
traps,  as  if  life  were  something  to  be  taken  easil}-,  and  work  to  be  performed 
only  in  a  sitting  posture. 


MONtTMENT,    STAGE    ISLAND. 


lUDDKFOHI)  1»(X)L. 


iir> 


I  wont  up  to  a  man  who  was  scrubbin},'  the  tisli-scales  off  the  inside  of  his 
wherry  with  the  stump  (»f  an  ohl  broom,  and  asked  him  if  he  wouhl  set  me 
across  the  ^'ut.  He  l»arely  hxikcd  up,  and  witliout  pausing;  in  his  work,  said  he 
had  no  objection.  Two  birds  with  one  stone  shouUl  ever  be  the  traveHer's 
maxim.  "Is  there  anything  worth  seeing  at  Wood  Ishuul?  "  l-denianih'd  of 
liini.  "Well,"  said  he,  glancing  across  the  water  where  it  rose  in  the  otiing, 
"  there  it  is  ;  see  for  yourself."'  "  Hut,"  I  persisted,  '"  is  there  anything  about 
it  worlh  knowing  —  that  is,  to  a  stranger?"  "  Yen,  sir,  ef  you're  a  stranger, 
y(»u  want  to  keep  well  off  to  the  nor'ard,  so's  to  keep  off'n  the  rocks."  "Did 
anything  ever  happen  there  that  you  know  of?"  "  Oh,  that's  what  you  want 
to  know,  is  it?  "said  the  fellow,  straightening  himself  n\)  and  drawing  his 
wet  sleeve  across  his  i»ersi)iring  face.  "  Wcdl,  yes;  Turn  Cutts,  of  Wood  Island, 
caught  a  lobster  that  weighed  a  hundred-weight." 


BIDnEFOKI)    POOL. 


Here,  at  last,  was  an  opening.  '•  They  tell  me,"  raid  I,  blandly,  "  that  the 
lobster  is  growing  scarcer  and  scarcer ;  I  supjjost^  those  men,"  indicating  them 
with  my  head,  "  nuist  sonu'time  think  of  Tom  Cutts  with  regret." 

"Uh,  you  needn't  pity  them,"  was  the  slow  rejoinder;  "  small  ones  sells  now 
for  twice  as  much  as  big  ones  used  to  once.  Them  that's  under  lawful  size, 
they  daresn't  sell,  but  they  eat  themselves.  Them  that  has  eggs,  they  scrape 
the  eggs  off  on,  and  nobody-  knows  the  difference."  A  million  young  destroyed 
for  the  sake  of  ten  cents !  Here  was  food  for  thought  if  not  for  the  stomach. 
Should  we  need  to  be  further  enlightened,  it  may  be  added  that  in  one  year 
ten  million  pouiuls  of  this  delicious  crustacean  were  canned  in  Maine  alone. 

"  "When  your  boat  has  dried  off  a  bit,  you  may  take  me  across  there,"  I  fin- 
ished, astonished  at  this  man's  voluntary  turning  state's  evidence,  as  it  were 
against  his  comrades.     It  was  cleaied  up,  however,  as  he  was  pulling  me  over, 


i| 


'i:''- 


i 


hU 


116 


Till-:   riNE-TKEK   COAST. 


1.1 1 


i     i 


by  liis  saying  tliiit  \u'.  btlouged  to  the  coal  schooner  I  saw  lying  out  in  the  stream, 
and  not  to  the  Pool,  which  he  seemed  to  owe  a  grudge. 

The  air  here  was  tremulous  with  the  steady  roll  of  the  surf.  To  an  untrained 
ear,  this  sound  of  the  sea  is  the  sound  of  the  sea.  But  to  those  who  follow  the 
sea,  or  live  by  its  shores,  the  dash  of  the  breakers  against  the  rocks  would  never 
be  mistaken  for  the  long  roll  upon  the  beach.  This  noise  of  the  rote  is  also  an 
infallible  sign  of  a  change  of  wind  or  weather ;  for  the  quarter  out  of  which  it 
comes  to  your  ears  is  that  from  which  the  wind  will  blow  before  many 
hours.  In  thick  weather,  pilots  feel  their  way  among  the  crookedest  passages, 
safely  guided  only  by  the  echo  from  the  shores  or  sound  of  the  surf.  "  I  speak 
of  pilots  who  know  the  wind  by  its  scent,  and  the  wave  by  its  taste,  and  could 
steer  to  any  port  between  Boston  and  Mount  Desert,  simply  by  listening  to  the 
peculiar  sound  of  the  surf  on  each  island,  beach,  and  line  of  rocks  along  the 
coast." 

The  Pool  landing  is  separated  from  the  main  by  a  strait,  not  more  than  a 
cable's  lengtli  in  breadth,  tlirough  which  the  tide  runs  as  in  a  sluiceway  into 
the  land-locked  basin  called  the  Pool,  where  vessels  lie  snugly  moored  against 
all  winds,  blow  high,  blow  low,  while  the  outer  anchorage  is  more  or  less 
exposed  to  the  force  of  northeast  gales.  One  easily  gets  the  idea  that  the  land 
from  which  the  g\  t  separates  us  has  been  joined,  at  some  remote  time,  to  that 
on  the  Pool  village  side ;  but  while  only  the  Power  which  is  said  to  be  able  to 
remove  mountains  could  have  split  the  natural  ridge,  of  which  the  village  once 
apparently  formed  part,  there  is  evidence  everywhere  to  changes  equally 
striking,  and  hardly  less  formidable,  in  the  general  structure  of  the  coast. 

On  the  whole,  there  is  something  singularly  romantic  and  in- 
dividual about  this  secluded  little  haven,  —  something  that  instinc- 
tively calls  to  mind  those  secret  nooks  of  the  coast  of  Scotland  about 
which  Sv'ott  has  woven  his  story  of  the  "I'irate."  Then,  on  the  one 
hand,  there  is  a  somewhat  pleasing  absence  of  the  pretentious  and 
exclusive  side  of  life  ai  the  shore,  and  on  the  other,  of  those  ingenious 
devices  for  picking  the  traveller's  pocket,  with  which  the  so-called 
popular  resorts  so  abound. 
After  climbin^  the  bluff,  at  the  farther  side,  I  looked  about  me  for  what 
traces  might  remain  of  Fort  ^lary,*  wliich  defended  the  entrance  to  the  river 
long  years  ago.  There  is  really  nothing  to  see.  A  sharp  eye  may  detect  here 
and  thc'-e  the  fading  outlines  of  the  old  work,  but  that  is  all.  I  found,  indeed, 
a  shallow  hollow  in  the  earth,  enclosed  by  portions  of  what  was  evidently  an  angle 
of  the  embankment.  In  a  year  or  two  more  even  that  will  have  disappeared. 
Vandal  hands  have  long  since  carried  off  all  that  could  be  carried  away,  and  time's 
ravages  will  do  the  rest.  There  was  nothing  in  these  perishing  mounds  to 
grow  sentimental  over;  but  not  far  from  them  there  stands  a  dwelling,  belong- 
ing to  nearly  the  sanu'  period,  when  every  man's  house  was  so  truly  his  castle 
that  this  one  has  ever  since  been  known  as  the  Jordan  garrison.* 

Now  that  we  have  taken  a  look  at  things  as  they  are,  give  us  leave,  gentle 


BIDDEFOKD   POOL. 


117 


AN(ii;i,    (iAIlUIEL. 


reader,  to  roam  awhile  in  the  eventful  past,  for  here  agaii.  History  beckons  us 
to  her  side. 

It  is  that  sterling  sailor,  Chaniplain,  who  draws  for  us  such  a  ])rptty 
pastoral  picture  of  the  Indian  settlement  as  he  saw  it  here  in  IGO;").  De  Monts 
and  he  had  been  heartily  welcomed  by  the  simple-minded  natives,  who  danced 
and  sang  for  joy  about  the  sands  as  the  strange  bark  glided  u"  the  river  to 
her  anchorage.  Champlain  describes  their  fortress  as  being  "a  large  cabin 
surrounded  by  palisades 
made  of  rather  large  trees, 
placed  by  the  side  of  each 
other,  in  which  they  take 
refuge  when  their  enemies 
make  war  upon  them." 
Tlieir  cabins  were  covered 
with  bark.  The  place,  he 
says,  was   very  pleasant, 

and  as  agreeable  as  any  to  be  seen ;  the  river  alive  with  hsh  and  bordered  by 
fair  meadows. 

It  was  a  new  thing  to  these  explorers  to  find  savages  tilling  the  soil,  and 
indicated  a  higher  grade  of  intelligence  than  the  Frenchmen  had  hitherto  fouiul 
among  them ;  but  to  know  just  what  the  land  was  capable  of  producing  was  a 
matter  of  far  more  vital  concern  to  the  designs  of  De  jNIonts.  So  they  carefully 
noted  what  they  saw  growing  in  the  Indian  gardens.  Maize  was  of  course 
their  principal  crop,  — 

"  The  fireen-haired  niiiize,  lier  silken  tresses  laid 
In  soft  luxuriance  on  her  harsh  brocade." 

They  found  that  the  Iiulians'  way  of  planting  was  to  drop  three  or  four 
kernels  of  corn,  and  as  many  beans,  into  each  hill,  by  seeing  the  beans  blossom- 
ing among  the  corn.  Farmers  in  this  i)art  of  the  world  follow  the  custom  to 
this  day,  and  succotash  is  a  dish  derived  from  the  most  primitive  of  Indian 
cookery.  Sipiashes,  pumpkins,  and  a  sort  of  tobacco,  which  was  probably  our 
jioke-weed,  were  also  grown  to  ])erfection  by  these  Indians  ;  yet  with  no  other 
tools  than  a  clumsy  wooden  spiule  to  loosen  the  earth,  and  the  cast-off  shell  of 
a  horseshoe  crab  to  scrape  it  up  with  into  hills.  Kude  husbandry  this  !  Yet 
they  were  happy  as  the  day  is  long.  Civilization  had  not  yet  begun  improving 
them  out  of  existence. 

The  site  of  the  Indifin  fortress  is  located  on  the  gravelly  ridge  on  the  west 
bank,  extending  at  the  back  of  yiv.  John  "Ward's  house ;  and  of  the  village  on  a 
neighboring  piece  of  flat  land.  A  spring  in  the  neighborhood  still  goes  by  the 
name  of  the  Indian  Spring. 

Though  surprisingly  few  reminders  of  it  remain,  not  many  places  surpass 
Biddeford  in  historic  or  romantic  interest.  It  was  here  that  Richard  Vines,^ 
that  faithful  follower  of  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges,  spent  the  memorable  winter  of 


^!'! 


■■   ;' 


118 


THE  riNE-TREE   COAST. 


I 


\l 
i 


I! 


161G-17,  in  a  miserable  hovel,  among  the  plague-stricken  savages,  in  order  to 
show  Englishmen  that  the  climate  of  Maine  was  no  such  terrible  bugbear  as 
Lord  Popham's  people  had  made  it  appear.  The  subsequent  use  of  this  harbor 
by  himself  and  others  is  directly  traceable,  we  think,  to  the  presence  of  the 
Indians,  with  wliom  a  trade  in  furs  and  goods  speedily  sprung  up. 

It  is  a  fact  tliat  the  fishery  did  little  to  develop  Maine  in  these  earlier  years. 
Getting  out  lumber,  masts,  and  shingles  was  about  the  first  business  to  put  a 
stamp  of  real  progress  on  the  country.  This  required  the  selection  of  sites 
with  water  powers,  the  erection  of  saw-mills,  and  the  employment  of  a  better 
sort  of  labor  than  in  the  fishery.  To  this  cause  the  gradual  rise  of  a  new  settle- 
ment at  the  falls,  while  the  old  remained  at  a  standstill,  must  be  attributed. 

It  is  well  known  that  a  single  enterprising  settler  and  trader  named 
William  Phillips  had  established  himself  at  the  falls  of  the  Saco  some  years 
before  the  breaking  out  of  King  Philip's  War,  and  had  built  a  saw  and  grist 
mill  there.^  His  dwelling  was  built  with  an  eye  to  defence ;  for  he  was  in  a 
lonely  situation,  and  knew  he  could  have  no  resource  except  in  the  thickness  of 
his  walls,  should  the  Indians  at  ^.ny  time  declare  war.  His  nearest  neighbor, 
not  a  very  desirable  one  at  the  best,  lived  half  a  mile  lower  down  the  river,  on 
the   opposite  or  eastern  side.     This  was  one   John  Bonython,'  a  man  of  so 

stubborn  and  intractable  a  spirit,  so  much  of 
an   Indian,    in  fact,    that   his    neighbors   had 
dubbed  him  the  Sagamore  of  Saco.     Bonython 
had  a  hint  given  him  to   look  to  himself,  as 
the  river  Indians   were  about  to   fall  on  the 
settlers  unawares.    He  took  the  alarm 
and  fled  to  Phillips'  garrison  in  tim  ■ 
to    see    his    own    house   in    flames. 


,:-^.L#4v. 


ROAD  TO   BIDDEFORD. 


men    tlien 


Phillips' 

stood  to  their  arms, 
for  they  knew  the 
enemy  would  shortly 
be  upon  them.  In 
fact,  after  burning 
Bonython's  house,  the  savages  laid  siege  to  Phillips',  who,  however,  beat  them 
off,  with  the  loss  of  many  of  their  warriors  ;  though  he  was  presently  forced 
to  abandon  his  post  to  the  enemy,  in  spite  of  his  gallant  defence  of  it,  because 
the  people  at  the  Pool  were  afraid  to  come  to  his  assistance.  Phillips'  brave 
stand,  therefore,  only  delayed  the  destruction  of  the  weak  settlement  at  the 
falls  for  a  brief  time,  as  the  defeated  savages  soon  came  back  to  complete 
what  they  had  left  unfinished. 


BIDDEFORD   POOL. 


319 


This  is  the  self-same  John  Bouythou  whose  portrait  the  poet  Whittier  thus 
draws  in  "  Mogg  Megoue  " :  — 

"The  hunted  outlaw,  Bonython  ! 
A  low,  lean,  swarthy  man  is  he, 
With  blanket  garb,  and  buskined  knee, 

And  naught  of  Knglish  fashion  on  ; 
For  he  hates  the  race  frcjui  whence  he  sprung, 
And  he  couches  his  words  in  the  Indian  tongue." 

The  poet's  description  of  the  falls,  as  they  appeared  before  the  white  men's 
dams  and  canals  had  shorn  them  of  their  primitive  grandeur  and  beauty,  is  a 
much  moLe  engaging  picture. 

"  Far  down  through  the  mist  of  the  falling  river, 
Which  rises  up  like  an  incense  ever, 
The  splintered  points  of  the  crags  are  seen. 
With  water  howling  and  vexed  between, 
While  the  scooping  whirl  of  the  pool  beneath 
Seems  an  open  throat,  with  its  granite  teeth  !  " 

On  the  Biddeford  side  the  banks  of  the  Saco  are  broken  and  hilly ;  on  the 
Saco  side,  level  and  sandy.  The  two  neighbor  cities  are  built  around  the  falls, 
six  miles  from  the  ocean,  and  owe  their  later  growth  to  the  magnificent  water 
power,  which  has  raised  them  to  the  rank  of  manufacturing  centres,  with  the 
stamp  of  thrift  and  enterprise  visible  in  their  public  buildings,  nowhere  more  so 
than  in  the  educational  in.stitutions. 

One  of  the  most  charming  episodes  of  a  sojourn  in  this  locality,  before  the 
steamer  was  withdrawn  from  the  route,  was  the  sail  down  the  pleasant  wind- 
ings of  the  Saco,  through  the  outlying  islands,  to  the  Pool.  It  was  by  far  the 
most  agreeable  means  of  bringing  the  history  and  traditions  of  the  Saco  and  its 
banks  under  one's  eye,  to  say  nothing  of  the  gratification  derived  from  the 
excursion  itself.     We  need  more  such  to  be  opened,  not  closed. 


<M 


m 


M 


•  Saco  was  the  oldest,  as  it  was  the  most  important,  settlement  within  the  Gorges  patent. 
The  name  Biddeford  is  from  Bideford.  County  Devon,  England,  memorable  as  the  port  from 
which  Sir  Walter  Haleigh  di'spatched  assistance  to  his  unfortunate  Virginia  colony.  Prior  to 
1718,  both  sides  of  the  river  were  called  Saco.  The  name  was  then  changed  to  Biddeford.  This 
continued  till  17()2,  when  the  east  side  was  separately  incori^orated  by  the  name  of  Pepperell- 
borough,  in  honor  of  Sir  William  Pepperell,  who  had  once  owned  a  large  part  of  it.  In  IHOrj  the 
name  of  Saco  was  restored  to  this  side.  This  confusion  of  names  is  believed  to  be  unmatched 
in  the  annals  of  any  municipality.  Under  the  local  designation  of  Winter  Harbor,  the  Pool 
continued  to  be  the  chief  settlement  for  a  hundred  years. 

*  The  tradition  is  that  Vines  and  his  companions  wintered  at  Leighton's  Point,  at  the 
north  side  of  the  Pool ;  hence  the  nan\e  Winter  Harbor.  But  no  actual  settlers  are  found  here 
before  1030,  or  until  Vines  had  received  his  patent.     There  were  certainly  none  when  Lcvett 


n 


120 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


'il! 


arrived  in  1624.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  Pool  should  not  have  kept  the  name  which 
served  to  identify  it  as  the  locality  of  the  earliest  settlement  on  the  Saeo. 

8  Wood  Island,  strange  to  say,  is  actually  wooded.  My  coast  pilot  says  you  may  go  into 
Winter  Harbor  either  from  the  eastward  or  westward  of  Wood  Island,  though  the  eastward 
passage  is  best,  on  account  of  some  rocks,  and  a  sand-bar  lying  to  the  west  and  southwest. 
Anchor  inside  <>f  Stage  Island,  which  makes  tiie  lee.  This  island,  formerly  known  as  Gib- 
bons', has  i)  tall  stone  monument.  The  lighthouse,  built  in  ^08,  shows  a  red  flash.  Tliere 
is  also  a  fo^-bell,  and  on  the  back  beach,  at  the  Pool,  a  life-saving  station. 

*  Fort  Maiy  was  not  built  till  some  years  after  Philip's  War,  and  no  doubt  prevented  a 
total  desertion  of  the  inhabitants  during  the  next.  Though  nominally  a  fort,  it  served  the 
purpose  also  of  a  trading-post,  as  the  English  supposed  it  would  draw  the  tribes  away  from  the 
French,  while  the  Indians  demanded  the  establishment  of  such  posts.  Church,  who  favored 
attacking  the  Indians  in  their  own  strongholds,  declared  the  policy  of  supplying  them  Avith 
everything  they  wanted  all  wrong,  and  advised  the  abandonment  of  Fort  Mary.  In  1708  it 
was  taken  by  the  enemy.  At  that  time  it  mounted  only  four  cannon,  and  Church  says  was 
not  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  fort.  Massachusetts  determined,  however,  to  hold  it ;  so  it  was 
strengthened  and  garrisoned  again  in  1705. 

^  Said  to  have  been  built  about  1717  by  Samuel  Jordan,  son  of  Dominicus,  of  Spurwink, 
who  was  slain  by  the  Indians.  Samuel,  then  a  boy,  was  taken  to  Canada,  learned  the  Indian 
tongue,  and  after  his  release  became  an  object  of  terror  to  his  captors,  who  on  more  than  one 
occasion  tried  to  take  or  kill  him. 

^  Richard  Vines  has  not  yet  found  a  biographer.  Yet  of  all  the  minor  characters  of  his 
time  Vines  richly  deserves  an  enduring  record.  Gorges  seems  to  have  found  in  him  the  man 
he  wanted,  and  Vines  certainly  served  his  patron  well  to  the  end.  Vines  did  what  Smith  had, 
so  unfortunately,  been  prevented  from  doing  by  his  capture  at  sea.  We  do  not  know  why 
Saco  should  have  been  chosen  for  the  experiment,  unless  the  existence  of  the  Indian  settlement 
there  had  become  known  through  the  fishing- ships.  The  ravages  of  the  plague  referred  to 
may  be  guessed  from  what  John  Winter,  of  Richmond's  Island,  has  to  say  about  the  handful 
remaining  at  Saco  in  103.3.  Popham's  failure  bears  so  directly  upon  the  fortunes  of  Saco  that 
the  student  is  invited  to  consider  the  sequence  of  events  after  that  failure.  Vines  first  acted 
as  Gorges'  steward  or  agent,  until  the  proprietor  sent  his  nephew,  William  Gorges,  to  establish 
a  de  facto  government  in  place  of  the  loosely  jointed  combination  which  had  previously  existed 
on  the  spot.  This  was  formally  done  March  25,  1030,  at  Richard  Bonython's  house,  which 
tradition  locates  at  the  east  side  of  the  river,  near  the  lower  ferry,  though  why  the  court 
should  have  been  held  there,  instead  of  at  the  Pool,  is  not  clear. 

"  Phillips'  Garrison  occupied  a  commandhig  site  at  wliat  is  still  called  the  "Shipyard,'* 
though  now  covered  with  buildings,  just  below  the  bridge  leading  to  Factory  Island,  and 
where  the  old  Pierson  house  now  stands,  at  the  corner  of  Pierson's  Lane,  in  Biddeford.  The 
stone  fort  of  later  times  stood  on  a  rocky  bluff,  just  above  the  bridge,  in  the  Laconia  Com- 
pany's yard. 

8  Mr.  Whittier  himself  says  of  "  Mogg  Megone,"  in  which  Bonython  figures  so  prominently, 
"  The  poem  was  written  in  my  boyish  days,  when  I  knew  little  of  colonial  history  or  anything 
else,  and  was  included  in  my  collected  writings  by  my  publishers  against  my  wishes."  We 
cannot  refrain  from  pointing  out  the  danger  of  making  history  serve  the  purpose  of  fiction 
by  manipulating  its  facts.  Probably  ten  young  people  have  read  "Mogg  Megone"  to  one 
who  has  read  the  true  story.  It  is  needless  to  add  that  none  of  the  events  related  in  the  poem 
have  any  historical  sanction  whatever,  except  the  sacking  of  Norridgewock,  which  took  place 
quite  fifty  years  after  Ruth  Bonython  is  supposed  to  have  fled  tliere  after  stabbing  Megone  to 
the  heart,  and  of  which  she  is  a  frenzied  witness.  John,  the  son  of  Richard  Bonython,  one 
of  the  original  patentees  of  Saco,  was  outlawed  for  refusing  to  obey  a  legal  process,  and  defy- 
ing the  officers  sent  to  arrest  him.    But  for  this  fact  he  would,  in  all  probability,  have 


BIDDEFORD   POOL. 

place  called  Rendezvous  Point."         ""'^"'"'^  ^^"^  ^""'^'-^^  was  writing  his  history,  "at  a 

""•"■«  "ea  Bonython,  Sagamore  of  Saco- 
He  lived  a  rogue,  and  died  a  knave,  and  went  to  Hobomoko." 

Hill  and  Main  streets,  befor  t  b  cV~^^^^^^^^^^  ""'^  ''''  ^"^'»"^'  '-^^  »'-  —r  of 

the  traditions  of  the  place.  ^         ^'  ""^  Massachusetts,  and  was  familiar  with  all 


i:i 


'{I 

:  IS 


T^ 


9rvm&\ 


CHAPTER   IX. 


ox    OLD    OKCHAKW    BEACH. 


"  And  all  impatient  of  diy  land,  acfree 
With  one  consent,  to  rush  into  the  sea."  — Cf>wi'KU. 


OLD  ORCHAED  BEACH  unites  two  historic  settlements.  This  was  the 
thoroughfare  by  Avhich  the  okl-time  traveller,  who  had  just  crossed  the 
Saco  at  the  lower  ferry,  rode  on  to  Pine  Point,  to  be  again  ferried  over 
the  Dunstan  to  Scarborough.  Certes,  it  Avas  no  holiday  promenade  when  the 
wayfarer  ran  the  risk  of  leaving  his  bones  to  moulder  away  among  the  sand- 
drifts  we  see  heaped  at  the  top  of  the  beach !  A  gunshot,  a  jmff  of  smoke, 
and  it  was  all  over  with  him.  Yet  we  often  read  in  the  old  chronicles  of  such 
or  such  a  man  being  shot  down  on  Saco  sands,  like  a  sandpiper  nowadays,  by 
hunters  who  were  after  human  game.  The  prowling  redskin  sprang  from  his 
lair,  tomahawk  in  hand,  neatly  flayed  off  his  victim's  scalp,  waved  it  aloft  with  a 
cry  of  triumph,  and  so  added  one  more  deed  of  blood  to  the  annals  of  the  beach. 

Thomas  Rogers,  one  of  the  earliest  settlers  here,  who  lived  near  Goose  Fare 
Brook,  planted  an  orchard,  from  which  the  beach  takes  its  name.  The  Indians 
burned  Rogers'  house  to  the  ground  soon  after  their  repulse  at  Phillips'  garri- 
son; but  his  orchard  continued  for  a  century  longer  to  blossom  among  the  ruins 
of  his  homestead,  —  an  eloquent  reminder  of  what  it  cost  in  the  old  days  to  be 
a  pioneer. 

We  turn  from  these  records  of  bloodshed  to  something  more  attractive. 
To-day  Ave  can  hardly  conceive  of  the  murderer  and  incendiary  as  plying  his  infer- 
nal trade  in  such  a  place  ;  of  these  cool  groves  that  Avhisper  us  on  one  side  as 
the  deadly  ambuscade  ;  of  the  sands  that  entice  us  on  the  otlier  as  crimsoned 
Avith  the  blood  of  unknown  heroes.     Yet  this  is  no  fancy  picture. 

One  of  Taine's  charming  bits  of  description  fits  admirably  into  the  scene  be- 
fore us  :  "  The  coast  stretches  into  the  A'apor  its  long  strip  of  polished  sand ;  the 
gilded  beach  undulates  softly  and  opens  its  holloAvs  to  the  ripples  of  the  sea.  Each 
ripide  comes  up  foamy  at  first,  then  insensibly  smooths  itself,  leaves  behind  it 
122 


UN   OLIJ    (UlCIIAUl)    BKACII. 


12,3 


THE    SCAVENGER. 


the  flocks  of  its  white  fleece,  and  goes  to  sleep  upon  the  shore  it  has  kissed. 

Meanwhile  another  approaches,  and  beyond  that  again  a  new  one,  then  a  whole 

troop,  striping  the  blue  water  with  embroidery  of  silver.     They  whisper  low, 

and  you  scarcely  hear  them  under  the  outcry  of  the  distant  billows ;  nowhere  is 

the   beach  so  sweet,  so   smiling;   the  land 

softens   its   embrace   the   better  to   receive 

and  caress  those  darling  creatures,  which  are, 

as  it  were,  the  little  children  of  the  sea." 
This  is  the  pic^ture  that  the  summer  viidtor 

knows,  all  grace  and  feeling.  There  is  another, 

known  only  to  those  who  have   stood  here 

when  some  autumnal  gale  was  storming  along 

the  coast  as  if  it  would  crush  it  to  atoms,  when 

destruction  rides  upon  the  tempest,  and  all 

the  world  of  waters  seems  at  war  with  itself. 

Silence  falls  on  every  tongue  at  sight  of  the 

great  ocean  running  riot  without  a  guiding 

hand ;  for  any  disturbance  in  nature's  orderly 

movements   brings   home  to  u.s,  as  nothing 

else  can,   what    shadows   we  are   and  what 

shadows  we  jiursue, — 

"  and  we  fools  of  nature, 
So  horridly  to  .shake  our  disposition 
With  thoughts  beyond  the  reaches  of  our  souls." 

Scarborough  and  the  Pool  make  the  two  horns  of  the  crescent.  On  the  I'ool 
side  we  yet  hold  Wood  Island  so  plainly  that  the  surf  is  seen  alternately  whiten- 
ing and  subsiding  about  its  seaward  point.  How  charnungly  yonder  curling 
foam-wreath  sets  off  the  deep  blue  of  the  sea ! 
It  is  like  a  great  plain  of  lapis-lazuli  veined 
with  streakings  of  alabaster.  And  somehow 
it  gives  us  real  pleasure  to  see  the  lighthouse 
standing  at  its  post  out  there  in  the  offing, 
though  the  sky  is  without  a  cloud,  and  the 
sea  scarcely  breaks  at  our  feet. 

At  the  Scarborough  side  are  other  islands, 
on  the  larger  of  which  there  is  a  house  ;  ^  far- 
ther off  two  vessels  are  slowly  forging  past 
each  other  on  the  same  tack.  One  has  just 
left  port;  the  other  is  just  going  into  it.  One 
cajjtain  has  turned  his  back  upon  his  home ;  the 
other  is  filled  with  joyful  anticipations;  for  we 

know  his  has  been  a  long  A'oyage  by  the  rusty  hulk,  patched  sails,  and  grimy  spars 
alow  and  aloft.  Still  farther  (mt,  a  steamer's  smoke  is  trailing  along  the  liorizon. 
Our  grandfathers  would  unhesitatingly  have  declared  it  to  be  a  ship  on  tire 


8AND-ROr.LKK. 


124 


THE   riNE-TREE  COAST. 


Here  are  the  sea  and  the  dunes.  A  colony  of  hardy  little  pitch-pines  has 
estiiblished  itself  along  the  head  of  the  beach,  on  a  ridge  of  firm,  white  sand. 
This  is  the  candlewood  of  the  early  settlers,  who  used  splints  of  it  to  light 
their  cabins.  It  is  the  only  tree  that  will  gi-ow  here ;  hut  tough  as  it  looks, 
the  shock  of  many  a  storm  is  visible  along  the  thinned  ranks.  Every  tree 
looks  as  if  stripped  for  a  tight.  That  describes  accurately  a  skirmish  line, 
throAvn  out  in  front  of  the  denser  masses  of  forest  behind  it.  And  here  before 
it  are  the  charging  billows.  The  ground  beneath  these  pines  is  carjjcted  with 
fallen  needles,  so  that  one  walks  noiselessly  about.  Pale  ferns  vegetate  in  the 
thick  shades,  and  at  the  back  of  the  grove  is  a  pretty  pond.  In  truth,  these 
seaside  groves  seem  more  like  overgrown  thickets  than  woods,  so  stunted  are 
they  in  their  growth,  so  roughened  by  exposure  to  the  loss  of  the  native  graces 
of  their  kind.     But  we  must  not  loiter  here. 

We  have  approached  the  group  of  cottages  at  Bay  View ;  for  be  it  known 
that  (Jld  Orchard  "^  proper  has  thrown  off  its  suburbs,  each  of  which  holds  out 
its  peculiar  claims  to  public  patronage.  At  some  distance  beyond  iis,  the  houses 
crowd  thickly  down  upon  the  beach,  halt  there,  and  form  a  line,  curving  with 
the  shore,  for  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  This  city  of  the  sea  is  Old  Orchard. 
We  try  not  to  look  that  way. 

The  vicinity  of  Bay  View  offers  much  the  most  extensive  sweep  of  the  eye 
of  any  part  of  the  beach,  inasmuch  as  the  Cajie  Elizabeth  shore,  with  Rich- 
mond's Island  lying  out  before  it,  is  tinely  l)rought  out  from  this  spot.  With  a 
glass  the  Two  Lights  could  probably  be  made  out,  although  I  could  not  see 
them  with  the  naked  eye ;  but  by  night  they  must  shine  out  brilliantly.  The 
sea-scape  is  certainly  larger  here  than  at  any  other  point. 

To  some  the  beach  may  be  always  simply  a  playground,  and  nothing  else, 
while  to  others  it  may  prove  a  far  more  interesting  and  instructive  school  "jr 
the  study  of  zoology  than  a  stuffy  lecture-room,  presided  over  by  a  dried-up 
professor^  with  dried-up  specimens.  More  can  be  learned  here  in  a  day,  with 
an  intelligent  companion,  than  in  a  month  with  books.  Every  tide  casts  up 
perfect  specimens ;  the  student  has  only  to  pick  them  up.  Finally,  the  man 
who  kicks  everything  away  from  him  in  disgust,  saying  that  is  only  a  kelp- 
stalk,  or  this  a  dead  sculpin,  listens  at  first  with  incredulity,  then  with  growing 
interest,  and  at  last  with  actual  wonder  and  admiration,  to  the  story  of  the 
despised  mussel-shell. 

Let  me  strike  the  water  Avith  one  oar,  and  with  the  other  scrape  the 
sands.  Here  now  is  something  that  looks  so  uncanny,  so  snake-like,  as  it  lies 
stretched  out  at  full  length  on  the  warm  and  glistening  sands,  that  we  almost 
expect  to  see  the  slimy  thing'  start  up  and  glide  away  at  our  approach.  But 
no ;  it  is  only  one  of  those  despised  things,  —  a  stalk  of  kelp,  uprooted  from 
Xeptune's  garden  by  the  last  gale.  But  what,  then,  is  this  object  to  which  it 
clings  with  such  a  death-like  gripe  ? 

This  long,  flexible,  tubular  stalk  loves  to  attach  itself  to  the  broad  back  of 
some  unsuspecting  mussel,  and  when  once  its  glutinous  roots  have  taken  firm 


ON  OLD  OllCHAliD  BEACH. 


126 


hold,  not  even  the  death  of  one  or  both  can  dislodge  it.  Can  it  be  that  the 
instinct  of  the  i)lant  —  if  we  may  suppose  plants  possessed  of  such  a  thing ;  and 
why  not  ?  —  tells  it  to  lay  hold  of  the  first  stationary  object  it  finds  anchored 
at  the  bottcjni,  regardless  of  trespass  or  ejectment,  and  so  secure  itself  against 
being  tossed  about  at  the  sport  of  every  wave  ?  Does  might  also  make  right, 
we  ask,  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  ?  At  any  rate,  the  life  of  the  kelp  is  the  doom 
of  the  mussel,  for  the  strong,  talon-like  roots  instantly  clasp  this  fixed  object  as 
in  a  vise.  And  now  comes  the  curious  part  of  the  story.  There  being  no  soii 
for  this  singular  plant  to  root  itself  in,  it  adheres  to  the  mussel's  back  by  the 
I)Ower  of  suction,  until  by  some  chemical  action  the  glutinous  matter  of  the 
plant  is  so  combined  Avith  the  lime  of  the  nmssel-shell  as  to  become  absolutely 
glued  to  it.  The  mussel  puts  up  Avith  this  forcible  entry  upon  her  premises  as 
best  she  may,  since  her  unwelcome  tenant  can  neither  be  shaken  off  nor  evicted, 
and  she  is  now  as  fully  in  its  power  as  a  fawn  Avould  be  in  the  coils  of  a  python ; 
but  at  length  its  growth  becomes  such  a  serious  drawback  to  her,  so  to  speak, 
that  when  the  pangs  of  hunger  have  forced  her  to  open  her  mouth,  the  kelp  will 
not  let  her  shut  it  .again,  and  she  soon  falls  a  prey  to  the  omnivorous  sand-fleas 
or  leaf-worms.  So  the  poor  mussel,  like  many  another  bearer  of  unsought  bur- 
dens from  which  there  is  but  one  way  of 
escape,  finally  gives  up  the  ghost  in  despair. 

But  mark  the  revenge  nature  allows  her 
to  take  of  the  intrusive  and  destroying  kelp  ! 
Upon  looking  closely,  we  discover  no  end 
of  tiny  baby  mussels  cunningly  hid  away 
among  the  roots  of  the  kelp,  to  which  they 
have  attached  themselves  by  means  of  the 
curious  fibrous  ligament  with  which  they 
are  provided.  So  that  the  plant,  which  has 
destroyed  the  mother  mussel,  is  compelled 
to  nourish  her  offspring. 

Every  now  and  then  in  my  walk  I  would  come  across  a  stranded  jelly-fish, 
or  Medusa,  but  never  before  had  I  seen  anything  approaching  in  size  these 
castaways  of  the  deep  sea,  or  at  all  like  them  in  general  appearance.  The 
common  Medusae,  with  which  our  rivers  and  harbors  are  alive  in  summer, 
are  seldom  larger  than  a  large  saucer,  and  are  so  entirely  transparent  and 
colorless  that  the  markings  of  the  different  organs  by  which  tliis  wonderful 
little  animal  lives,  breathes,  and  has  its  being,  may  be  seen  through  the  pal- 
pitating flesh.  Those  I  found  stranded  on  the  beach  in  October  were  of 
prodigious  size, — as  large  over  as  my  walking-stick,  —  all  hairy  round  the 
creatixres'  mouths,  with  flesh  of  the  color  of  raw  beef.  "What  more  graceful 
objects  can  be  imagined  than  the  smaller  Medusae,  when  opening  and  shutting 
their  delicately  fringed  bodies  with  a  slow,  Avavy  motion  in  the  act  of  swim- 
ming? It  is  the  very  poetry  of  motion.  These  were  most  repulsive  looking 
things. 


"good  mohning." 


'Il 


m 


!  :l 


IL'G 


THE   I'INE-TKEE  COAST. 


Old  Orchard  luiglit  be  oalU'd  an  overgrown  railway  station,  with  a  Fourth 
of  July  annex.  The  railway  i)loughs  a  deep  furrow  tlucnigh  tlie  nuiss  of  wooden 
buildings,  (constantly  interjei-ting  its  noise,  smoke,  and  clatter  into  the  sentiment 
of  the  protesting  sea.  >;evertheless,  Old  Orchard  is  the  typical  wate  '"g-place 
for  those  who  detest  the  name  of  solitude.  An  esplanade  of  hard,  wiate  sand, 
with  an  undulating  wall  of  surf  at  the  bottom,  and  another  of  warm  dunes  at 
the  top,  makes  its  front  street,  —  a  street  five  miles  long,  built,  graded,  swept, 
and  kept  in  repair  by  the  ocean.  Cottages  and  hotels  are  ranged  along  the 
sea-front ;  hotels  and  cottages  cross  the  dunes  behind,  mount  the  bald  slopes 
rising  at  the  back,  and  finally  disappear  among  cool  groves  of  pine,  whose  dark 
green  instantly  relieves  the  white  glare  of  the  sands,  and  the  nakedness  of  the 
unsha(h'd  expanse  of  red  roofs,  peaked  gables,  and  gaudy  turrets  packed  in  one 
mass  underneath  a  broiling  sun. 

This  assemblage  of  houses,  accidental  in  everything  except  an  eye  to  the 
main  chance,  has  the  appearance  of  havin'g  s^jrung  up  in  a  night,  like  a  colony 


II 


MEDUS.t:. 


of  red,  white,  and  orange  toadstools  after  a  summer  shower.  Yoii  Avould  be 
willing  to  wager  something  that  it  was  not  here  yesterday.  Everything  new, 
or  as  good  as  new ;  nothing  to  mellow  this  offensive  newness  or  to  tempt  one  to 
a  second  look.  Shops,  caf^'S,  booths,  fruit-stands,  shooting-galleries,  bazaars 
without  end,  crowd  together  in  interminable  rows.  Every  one  is  busily  em- 
jiloyed  in  catering  to  the  wants  of  tlie  army  of  travellers,  who  have  come  here 
to  divert  themselves,  and  who  demand  to  be  diverted. 

You  pass  through  a  cross-fire  from  newsboys,  hotel-porters,  and  bootblacks 
to  the  wooden  sidewalk.  A  man  in  a  soiled  white  apron,  with  sleeves  rolh'd 
up,  comes  out  of  a  doorAvay  and  rings  a  dinner-bell  in  your  face.  "  Dinner,  sir  ?  " 
You  pass  on.  A  second  brings  out  a  gong,  with  which  you  are  deafened.  This 
|)^'rformance  begins  again  on  the  arrival  of  every  train.  Apparently  it  is  always 
time  to  eat  here.     All  at  once  you  hear  a  terrible  rumbling  on  one  side  of  you  I 


ON  OLD  ORCHARD   BEACH. 


Ili7 


"  This  way,  sir,  to  the  gravity  railway ! "  An  express  train  thunders  through  tlie 
prim-ipal  street,  blinding  you  with  its  smoke  and  dust.  When  you  open  your 
eyes  again,  you  see  a  placard  before  you,  anuouneing  tliat  there  is  to  be  a  polit- 
ical meeting  at  the  Camp  Ground.  As  it  is  near  the  hour,  you  join  the  crowds 
already  streanung  that  way,  nuich  impressed  by  the  variety  of  diversion  that 
Old  Orchard  affords.  On  arriving  at  the  Camp  Ground,  after  a  hot  walk,  you 
find  tliree  thousand  people  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  s])eaker3. 
A  band  iri  uniform  plays  "  Nearer  my  God  to  Thee."  After  this,  one  of  the 
trustees  of  the  (Jamp  Ground,  whose  face  wears  a  most  guileless  smile,  mounts 
the  rostrum,  and,  after  clearing  his  throat,  gently  reminds  the  audience  of  the 
sacred  character  of  the  })lace  by  announcing  that  a  collection  will  be  taken  up. 
The  crowd  laughs  good  humoredly  and  pays. 

Having  sufficiently  diverted  yourself,  you  make  a  bee-line  for  the  beach 
again. 

Here  the  people  who  live  at  the  edge  of  the  shore  are  reclining  in  hammocks, 
in  various  listless  attitudes,  reading,  smoking,  or  looking  off  on  the  water,  or  at 
the  knots  of  pedestrians  sauntering  idly  about 
the  beach,  now  stopping  to  pick  up  a  shell,  over 
which  they  hold  an  animated  confab,  or  stooj> 
ing  curiously  about  some  nondescript  fish,  on 
which  they  hold  an  incj^uest.  Carriages  are  cross- 
ing the  beach  in  every  direction,  or  standing 
where  the  occupants  can  watch  the  bathers,  who, 
if  timid,  are  seen  splashing  the  water  about  like 
great  children,,  or,  if  bold,  gambolling  in  the  big 
surf-waves  farther  out,  where  their  heads  bob  up 
and  down  like  corks.  Still  farther  out,  the  white 
gulls  stoop  to  skim  the  waves  with  their  wings, 
and  then  sail  screaming  off.  Perhaps  there 
will  be  twenty  sail  or  more  of  mackerel-catchers 
in  the  offing,  all  headed  up  in  the  wind,  with  sails 
flapping  idly  in  the  cool  breeze.  A  good  haul  to 
you,  my  mates !  Here,  at  least,  we  are  not  bored 
to  death.   But  we  must  on,  for  the  day  is  waning. 

One  custom  that  is  pecidiar  to  Old  Orchard 
has  given  rise  to  no  end  of  satirical  comment  or  downright  ridicule.  It  is  the 
one  so  long  observed  by  the  country  folk,  far  and  near,  of  resorting  to  the  beach 
on  the  2()th  of  June  in  each  year,  in  consequence  of  the  prevailing  belief  that 
whoever,  on  that  day,  dipped  in  the  sea  would  be  freed  from  all  the  ills  which 
flesh  is  heir  to. 

Formerly  the  anniversary  Avas  kept  on  St.  John  the  I^aptist's  day,  but  by 
general  consent  it  was  moved  forward  two  days.  No  valid  objection  is  found 
to  the  custom  of  bathing  even  once  a  year,  yet  the  (piestion  of  how  fur  it  may 
be  accepted  as  an  evidence  of  lingering  superstition  remains  unsolved  to  this 


SEA-CICIMBER. 


Ut 


128 


THE  I'INE-TUEK  COAST. 


I« 


'!-; 


I     •'• 


I 


day.  It  unquestionably  aroso  in  the  beginning  from  a  firm  belief  in  the  miracu- 
lous ettieaey  of  the  waters  to  heal  the  sicsk,  make  the  lame  walk,  and  the  weak 
strong.  Just  how  it  came  about  is  not  clear.  Many  years  ago  it  was  reported 
that  a  cow  had  opened  her  mouth,  not  lik"  Halaam's  ass  to  rejjrove  a  prophet, 
but  to  decdart!  tln^  miraculous  virtues  of  these  waters.  But  there  is  no  poetry 
about  these  plain  country  folk  or  their  superstitions.  Whenever  the  subjt-ct  is 
broached,  they  stoutly  deny  any  belief  in  the  alleged  healing  jjroperties  of  the 
waters;  yet  nu)st  of  them  will  be  found  on  the  beach  when  the  sacramental  day 
comes  round  again.  1  am  therefore  persuaded  that  a  strong  undenmrrent  of 
credulity  really  exists,  and  that  in  this  case  actions  sjjcak  loiuler  than  words. 
Superstition  is  like  the  undertow  of  the  beach  itself,  which  sometimes  carries 
even  the  strongest  swimmers  off  their  feet. 

The  beach  is  the  only  place  where  one  can  get  per- 
fe(!t  specimens  of  the  sort  of  shellfish  that  grow  and 
multiply  far  out,  where  the  ordinary  wash  of  the  tides 
does  not  disturb  them.  Here,  snugly  tucked  away  in 
beds  of  clean  white  sand,  in  quiet  waters,  the  giant- 
clam,  quahaug,  and  razor-dam  ^  lead  a  life  of  undis- 
turbed trancpulUty,  until  some  great  gale  turns  them 
out  of  house  and  home. 

During  the  winter  of  1870,  after  a  storm  at  sea, 

this  beach  was  reported  to  be  covered  with  quahaugs 

to  the  depth  of  a  foot,  and  in  some  places  two  feet. 

I   confess  this  sounded  like  exaggeration  \iutil  the  great  gale   of  November 

28,  1888,  happened,  when  curiosity  led  me  to  visit  the  beach. 

The  sight  that  met  me  was  supremely  grand,  supreniely  desolate,  —  as  if  in 
very  truth  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  were  broken  up,  and  chaos  come 
again.  Nobody  ever  looked  on  such  a  spectacle  without  feeling  awed  and 
sobered.  Everything  was  in  the  wildest  commotion,  —  the  air  full  of  blinding 
spray,  the  sea  one  mass  of  tossing  water,  the  clouds  rolling  in  thick,  opaque 
masses  overhead.  And  at  the  edge  of  the  shore  the  steady  rush  and  ceaseless 
roar  of  the  breakers,  as  they  came  iip  fifteen  feet  high  against  the  beach,  was 
echoed  along  the  coast,  was  in  the  air,  and  seemed  the  voice  of  the  storm  crying 
no  quarter  to  the  groaning  land.  Would  that  I  might  describe  those  roaring 
monsters  that  shook  the  solid  earth  with  the  weight  of  their  fall !  Vain 
attempt !  Three  ranks  deep,  heaped  up  all  the  way  from  Ireland,  they  drove 
on  up  the  beach,  which  seemed  to  shrink  before  their  daring  advance.  Then, 
as  they  broke,  they  deluged  the  shores  with  rivers  of  foam  that  ran  seething, 
bubbling,  and  hissing  about,  till  the  force  that  had  launched  them  spent  itself, 
and  they  were  swept  back,  exhausted,  into  the  jaws  of  the  coming  wave. 

This  gale  will  long  be  remembered  for  its  disastrous  effects.  Hardly 
within  the  memory  of  man  has  so  much  sea-stuff  come  on  shore,  or  have  the 
farmers  reaped  such  a  rich  harvest.  All  the  cottages  standing  along  the  water, 
front  showed  the  effects  of  hard  usage.     Bulkheads  were  wrecked,  outhouses 


SEA-rUCIUN. 


0\  OLD   OUrHAUI)   HKAni. 


129 


turned  round,  awninjjs,  jdatforms,  and  walks  carried  away,  while  the  wet  sand 
lay  in  unsightly  heaps  ahout  the  house  doors,  some  of  whieh  had  been  foreed 
open  by  the  winds  and  waves.  All  this  indicated  that  the  danger  limit  had 
been  reached  when  the  gale  was  at  its  height.  The  fcnv  people  who  remained 
in  their  houses  passed  a  night  of  ternu"  in  listening  to  the  wash  of  the  waves 
beneath  them,  till  tht^  turning  of  the  tide  relieved  their  fears  for  the  tinu' ;  and 
for  once  it  was  Old  Orchard  on  the  sea  without  any  straining  of  the  situation. 

At  low  tiile  the  sea  stood  at  the  point  ordinarily  reached  by  the  Hood. 
High-water  mark  was  indicated  by  a  windrow  of  seaweed,  mixed  with  broken-up 
woodwork,  lying  rjuite  high  uj)  beyond  the  Hrst  line  of  houses.  A  more  woe- 
begone spectacle  than  this  washed-out  vi'.lage  presented  would  be  hard  to  imagine, 
and  yet  it  had  its  ludicnms  side,  too,  in  the  numerous  signs  displayt  on  all 
sides  of  "  Ice  Cohl  Soda  Water,"  '*  liathing  Suits  to  Let,"  and  the  like  legends, 
the  bare  sight  of  which  on  this  November  day  was  enough  to  set  one's  teeth 
chattering. 

Not  far  away,  havoc  of  another  kind  had 
been  going  on  anchecked.  These  gales  are 
very  destructive  U)  animal  life.  Toward 
Pine  Point  the  beach  was  buried  tt)  the  dei)th 
of  a  foot  or  more  beneath  •.:  sodden  mass  of 
Avater-soaked  sawdust,  ground-up  bark,  or 
slimy  driftwood  that  had  l)een  lying  at  the 
bottom,  no  one  knows  how  long,  until  this 
gale  dislodged  and  cast  it  up.  A  little  way 
off  it  had  the  appearance  of  a  ledge  of  rocks. 
There  were  acres  upon  acres  of  this  stuff. 
It  was  the  strangest  sight  I  ever  looked 
upon  ;  for  mixed  u})  with  the  soft  and  sticky 
mass    were     live    lobsters,    crabs,    mussels, 

fpiahaugs,  cockles,  sea-urchins,*  starfish,  and  razor-clams  by  the  cartload.  I  do 
not  exaggerate  in  the  least  in  saying  it  —  by  the  cartload.  In  fact,  men  were 
carting  them  off  the  beach,  while  I  was  recovering  from  my  astonishment  at  see- 
ing what  would  have  fed  a  good-sized  village  going  to  waste,  or.  at  best,  destined 
to  the  farmers'  manure-heaps.  All  these  denizens  of  the  cicep  sea  had  been 
thrown  up  by  one  tide ;  the  next  would  doubtless  swell  the  heap  with  fresh 
victims. 

Ah  !  if  only  the  poor  of  the  cities  could  have  the  benefit  of  such  a  windfall, 
it  would  be  every  whit  as  good  as  a  miracle;  but  with  fuel  rotting  upon  the 
hills,  and  food  rotting  upon  the  shores,  while  some  poor  souls  are  freezing  and 
some  starving,  nature's  economy  does  seem  now  and  then  to  need  a  little  use- 
ful direction. 

If  there  be  a  more  alluring  pursuit  open  to  man's  ambition  than  is  found  in 
poking  over  swaths  of  tangled  seaweed,  turning  over  loose  stones,  peering  into 
every  little  puddle,  or  unearthing  a  crab  just  as  he  has  comfortably  scuttled 


THE    CONTORTIONIST. 


I    ! 


Id 


I 


130 


THK   riNE-TUEE   COAST. 


himself  down  in  the  sand,  it  should  be  made  known  at  once.  What  would  some 
naturalists,  who  look  forward  to  a  season's  dredging  in  the  deep  sea  with  such 
joyful  anticipation,  not  have  given  for  the  privilege  of  carting  off  this  pal- 
pitating rubbish  ?  It  seemed  as  if  the  dredgings  of  the  whole  Atlantic  were 
spread  out  before  me.  1  picked  up  two  or  three  sea-cucumbers,  torpid  from 
cold,  clammy  to  the  touch,  disgusting  objects  to  look  at  when  denuded  of  the 
splendid  frill  of  tentacles  with  which  the  head  is  furnished ;  also  several  her- 
mit-crabs, all  alive  and  kicking,  —  all  of  which  now  adorn  my  cabinet.  Of  a 
dozen  persons  to  whom  I  showed  the  cucumber,  not  one  knew  whether  it  was 
an  animal  or  a  plant. 


II       « 


H- 


r^ 


SPKAIUNU    lI.OfNDERS. 


Certainly  the  beach  is  most  attractive  in  summer,  but  most  imposing  and 
instructive  in  winter. 

Not  far  from  the  place  Avhere  the  shellfish  came  np.  Little  Kiver  formerly 
cut  its  way  out  through  the  beach.  The  railroad  embankment  has  turned  it 
into  a  new  channel,  thus  extending  the  beach  two  miles  at  least,  but  obliterating 
the  mark  of  an  historic  event.  It  was  licre  that  honest  Captain  "Wincall,  while 
marching  to  the  relief  of  Scarborough  with  cmly  eleven  men,  in  the  tii.ie  of 
I'hilip's  War,  was  set  upon  by  more  than  ten  times  his  own  number  of  Indians. 
Thougli  hard  pushed,  Wincall  and  his  gallant  little  band  kept  their  assailants 
at  bay,  until  a  chance  offered  itself  to  break  through  them,  and  gain  the  shelter 
of  Foxwell's  garrison  at  Dunstan. 


ON   OLD   ORCHARD   REACH. 


131 


The  affair  was,  however,  to  have  its  tragic  sequel ;  for  upon  hearing  the 
tiring,  a  party  of  nine  men  hastened  from  Winter  Harbor  to  the  relief  of  their 
friends.  The  savages  laid  in  wait  for  them  among  the  thickets,  with  guns 
cocked,  and  slaughtered  them  to  a  man,  though  not  without  their  making  a 
des})erate  tight  for  their  lives. 

This  affair  took  place  in  plain  sight  of  the  garrison  at  Black  Point,  where 
Captain  Scottow*  was  posted  with  some  soldiers.  His  men  l-.'^gged  hard  to  be 
allowed  to  go  to  the  aid  of  the  poor  fellows  on  the  beach,  but  Sct)ttow  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  their  entreaties.  One  of  the  fishermen  asked  him  if  he  was  not 
ashamed  to  stand  still  with  so  many  armed  men  about  him,  and  let  those  nine 
Winter  Harbor  men  be  murdered  before  their  eyes.  Scottow  continued  dumb. 
'"Come,"  the  S])eaker  persisted,  '']mt  me  some  men  into  my  shallop,  and  by  the 
help  of  God,  I  will  pull  them  on  shore  in  Little  Kiver,  and  doubt  not  we  shall  save 
some  of  their  lives."     Scottow  Avould  neither  stir  himself  nor  give  the  order. 

Hubbaril  adds  that  one  of  the  victims  of  this  massacre  was  the  Thomas 
Rogers  who  lived  at  the  other  end  of  the  beach. 

At  Pine  Point,  where  the  beach  comes  to  an  end,  are  more  cottages,  and  the 
beach  is  again  pleasantly  skirted  by  groves.  Round  the  })<)int  is  a  fishing-ham- 
let going  back  to  the  old,  old  time  when  Charles  Pine,  a  noted  slayer  of  Indians, 
lived  here.  The  shell-heaps  found  on  the  south  side  of  this  point  bear  witness 
to  the  aboriginal  feasts  of  long  ago.  Rut  we  are  now  within  the  limits  of  Scar- 
l)or()ugh,  at  the  site  of  the  t)ld  crossing-place  to  Black  Point,  —  as  it  was  first 
called, —  now  Prout's  Xeck. 


1  Stratton's  Island  has  the  house  ;  Hhiff  Island  adjoins  it.  Roth  belong  to  Scarborough. 
Stratton's  Island  is  low  and  bare,  and  is  so  called  as  early  as  lOol,  in  Canimock's  patent,  pre- 
sumably from  John  Stratton,  an  eai'ly  settler.  Eagle  Island  and  Ram  Island  lie  out  opposite 
15ay  View.     Basket  Island  is  inside  of  Stage. 

-  Old  Orchard  was  taken  futm  Saco  in  188.3.  E.  C.  Staples  flr.st  took  in  a  few  boarders  in 
his  farndiouse,  about  1840.  The  beach  lies  at  about  three  miles  from  the  central  part  of  Saco, 
and  is  a  summer  resort  pure  and  simi)le.  A  b"anch  railway  coiniects  Old  Orchard  proi)er 
with  Ferry  Beach,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saco,  and  again  by  ferry  with  Hiddeford  rool ;  a  horse 
railroad  with  Saco,  which  can  also  be  reached  by  the  beach,  there  being  a  good  road  from  Hay 
\'ifw.  which  cuts  off  the  extrcnu'  corner  of  the  slmre.  Old  Orchard  is  equipped  with  electric 
lighls,  a  tire  department,  an  abundance  of  pure  water,  etc. 

3  John  Josselyn  calls  the  razor-clam  the  sheath- tish,  and  says  it  was  fully  as  good  eating  as 
a  prawn.  The  Hesh  is  very  plump,  white,  and  delicate  ;  but  the  fish  has  become  too  scarce  to 
be  used  as  food. 

■»  Scientists  have  labelled  the  urchin  with  the  extraordinary  encumbrance  of  ".strongjio- 
centrotus."  which  will  doubtless  become  very  poi)ular  with  the  unscientific  world.  The  ani- 
mal has  many  other  nanu's,  —  as  sea-chestnut,  hedgehog  of  the  sea,  whore's  egg,  etc.  It  is 
highly  esteemed  as  an  article  of  food  by  the  peoj)le  living  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean, 
who  gather  them  for  market  by  diving  to  the  bottom  for  them. 

^  .Toslma  Scottow,  merchant,  of  Boston  ;  captain  of  the  artillery  compiuiy  ;  a  great  pro- 
prietor at  Scarborough,  where  Scottow's  Ilill  is  named  fi.r  him.  Rei'd  note  1.  next  chapter. 
He' is  the  author  of  "Old  Mens'  Tears  for  tlnir  own  Declensions,"  KliU  ;  also,  of  "A 
Narrative  of  the  Planting  of  the  >[assachusetts  ("liony.'"  Scwall.  in  his  diary,  notices  Scot- 
tow's  death  and  funeral  :   "  Thus  the  old  New  England  men  drop  away." 


M 


KiN(;   riiii.ii' s  svA.Mi'i  .M-iii:i, 


(JIIAITKH    X. 

FKOM    SCAHHOKOUOII    TO    I'ORTLAND    IIKAI). 

"Tho  ocean  ovcrpciTiiiH  of  liis  list, 

Kilts  not  tin;  Uiit.s  willi  iiion;  impetuous  haste."  —  Othu'lo. 


\    \ 


I'INK-TKEE    UKVICK. 


VEU  iiiarslics  clciiiily  trcnclKHl  by  a  network  of  salt- 
watcr  inlets,  tlirouf^h  roatls  Itroidcred  with  wild 
flowers, — wlicn^  daisies  blow,  and  the'  ])iirj)le  fiowei'- 
de-luee  si)riiij,'H  up  iroiii  slit^aves  of  sword-like  tlaj^, 
—  our  way  lies  aloii^'  the  storied  S(tarborou^di  shore. 
The  tide-water,  which  sur^^es  in  fi'oiii  sea 
throu},'h  th(!  oj)eniiig  betwecMi  Tine  I'oint  aud  the 
lou}^  promontory  of  I'ront's  Xeek,'  at  once  tlirows 
off  three  lonj^,  crooked  arms,  resemblin.L,' the  fetders 
of  the  octo[)US,  that  with  many  a  snaky  twist  and 
turn  rea(di  far  u]»  throUL,di  tln^  broad  levcds  of 
meadow,  into  the  retreatiii}^  land.  Without  doubt, 
these  marshes  first  attracted  settlers  to  the  spot.  They  furnished  an  al)undaut 
crop  of  salt-hay.  with  no  other  labor  than  that  of  cutting;,  curin<f,  and  stackinj^ 
it;  they  swarmed  with  the  wild  mallard,  crane,  du(!k,  and  brant,  and  they  wen* 
bordered  by  <dam-beds  so  i)rolifi<!  that  they  hav(i  never  failed  from  that  day  to 
this,  althouj^h  constantly  duj,'  over  for  two  centuries  and  a  lialf.  It  would  be 
(jiiite  safe  to  say  tliat  no  spot  as  lar}i;e  as  one's  hand  has  escaped  beinj^  turned 
up  aj^ain  and  again.-  And  yet  thert;  is  the  (dam-digger  to-day,  with  his  dory 
drawn  up  beside  him  on  the  Hats,  as  busy  at  work  as  his  great-gn^at-grandfather 
of  the  same  nanu'  was  in  his  time,  anil  just  as  thoughtless  as  he  of  (iconomizing 
sucli  a  common  thing  as  a  dam.  The  marvellous  fecundity  of  the.se  creatures 
is  somethiiig  to  whicth  few  have  ever  given  even  a  passing  thought.  Vet  they 
have  Ix'en  the  source  of  untold  wealth.  Gold-fields  may  be  worked  out ;  clam- 
iields,  never. 

From  the  railroad  station  to  Prout's  Neck,  whi(di  is  the  extreme  seaward 
point  of  S(;arl)or<Jugh,  there  is  a  straggling  settlement  of  rather  ordinary  farm- 

I8i 


FI{(».M    SCAKHOKOl'JJII     I'O    I'OIM'LANI)    IIKAI). 


133 


houses  for  the  whoh;  I'oui'  miles.  Roads  bniiicli  off  at  tin;  left  to  the  settlements 
on  llie  Spiirwiiik,  or  to  tlii!  beaches  on  that  side.  All  of  tliese  roads  are  good, 
and  th(!  drives  interestiuf,';  but  thcf  way  to  the  Neck  li^^s  over  a  sandy  plain, 
offerinf,'  little  that  calls  Utr  special  mention  here.  Mrs.  Sigoiirn(!y,  however, 
would  have  liked  this  lonj,'  street  for  its  elms  and  well-sweej)s,  if  for  U(jthin},' 
else. 

This  point  was  so  early  (Uicupied  that  even  its  to]to<j;raphi(!al  featunis  have  a 
certain  interest.     We  wish  to  know  the  whys  and  wherefores,  as  it  were.  There 
is  a  little   eov(^    made; 
l)y  a  ]»rojection  of  this 
peninsidii  towanl  I'ine 
I'oint.      It  was  but  an 
indifferent     roadstead, 
even   for  the  pinnaces 
and    shallo|is    of    that 
dux ;  but  W'intei'  Har- 
bor  on    one    side,  and 
Kiclimond's    Island  on  » 
the     other,    were    the  V^T>yl7^>~  « 
real  Heaj)orts  of    Scar-       V   ■'   '^^* 
borouj,di.     Jt  was  here, 
however,  that  'I'homas 
( !animock     estaldished 
himself     about     KJ.'U;. 
and   it    was    als(»    hen! 
thatthe  lirst  b-rrv  con- 
nected the   long   r(jute 
along  th(!  seaboard. 

I  f  we  shall  turn  our 
backs  upon  this  cove, 
and  take  on<!  of  tho, 
paths  leading  thiough 

the  wood  skirting  th»^  I'oad  here,  we  shall  presently  eonn^  out  at  tlu^  shore 
of  Massacre  I'ond,  extending  i)etween  us  and  the  beacth,  a  long,  snujoth  sheet 
of  water,  it  was  liere  that  Captain  JIunnewell  and  eighteen  mon;  Scarbor- 
ough men  wert!  slaughtered  by  the  Indians.''  And  a  little  nctrth  of  this  pond  the 
siti'  of  Scottow's  fort  is  still  distinguishal)le.  lieyond  this  point  the  sand- 
dunes  seem  to  hav(^  engulfed  what  was  proliably  cultivated  land  within  lifty 
yeais,  as  good  soil  is  found  on  digging  away  the  KUp(U'in(Mimbent  sand.  I'rout's 
Neck  now  eh^vates  itstdf  to  a  grassy  headland  appropriated  everywluui!  by 
summer  hotels  and  cottages. 

The  'I'homas  Oammotik  who  was  just  now  referred  to,  who  received  a  grant 
of  Hhick  I'oint  in  1(».'{1,  and  is  tlu-refore  considereil  the  founder  <jf  SciU'borougli, 
is  lirst  heard  of  jus  an  agent  for  Sir  Ferdinando  Gorges,  at   riscatatiua,  in  this 


ci.AM-in<;(;i;n. 


' 


,  ''1 


.  J' 


^^m 


1.S4 


TIIK    PINE-TRKK   COAST. 


hi! 


sann!  yi'iir.  It  is  not  certain,  however,  that  he  took  up  his  residence  at  Black 
Point  before  the  year  1G30.  Caniniock's  father  had  made  a  runaway  match  Avith 
the  Lady  Frances,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  the  details  of  which  are 
quite  romantic.  A  few  unimportant  scraps  are  all  that  have  been  recovered 
concerning  Cammock  himself  or  his  stay  at  Black  Point,  probably  because 
there  is  so  little  to  be  said  of  him. 

But  Cammock  hail  a  bachelor  friend  who,  like 
himself,  had  been  in  Gorges'  service,  and  was  wholly 
devoted  to  his  interest.  Exact  dates  are  unattain- 
able, but  we  find  Henry  Josselyn,  gentleman,* 
installed  as  a  member  of  Cammock's  houselndd  in 
1638,  at  which  time  the  family  received  a  notable 
accession.  This  was  no  less  a  person  than  John 
Josselyn,  brother  of  Henry,  whose  "  Two  Voyages  "' 
and  '•  Karities "  are  so  highly  prized  by  anti- 
quarians. On  this  account  the  earliest  annals  of 
Scarborough  are  fuller  and  more  satisfactory  than 
are  those  of  any  other  of  the  Maine  plantations ; 
for  Josselyn  was  both  observant  and  Avell  informed, 
though  some  of  his  stories  would  do  no  discredit 
to  the  late  Baron  Mimchausen  himself,  of  famous 
memory.  In  short,  we  are  indebted  to  John  Jos- 
selyn for  a  good  deal  that  Avould  else  have  been  lost 
to  the  world,  and  for  much  more  that  never  had  a 
place  in  it. 

In  the  first  place,  Josselyn  was  a  naturalist  of 
no  mean  aci^uirements,  as  his  "  Karities  "  go  to  prove. 
It  is  to  him  Ave  owe  the  first  discovery,  or  report  of 
it,  of  the  Avorld-renowned  sea-serpent,  whose  annual 
appearance  is  now  looked  for  Avith  such  eager  interest  by  landlords  all  along 
the  XeAV  England  coast.  Not  one  of  the  scoifers  Avhose  incredulity  is  so  actively 
aroused  Avhen  the  royal  ophidian  is  mentioned  has  a  Avord  to  say  against  the 
octopus,  — of  the  tAVo  by  mutdi  the  hardest  to  believe  in  unless  one  has  had  the 
evidence  of  his  oAvn  eyes.  The  merman  is  another  thing  —  if  it  be  proper  to  call 
it  so — about  Avhich  Josselyn  gives  us  the  first  precise  information.  Then  Jos- 
selyn Avas  again  the  first  person  to  describe  the  "White  ^Mountains  by  this 
entirely  felicitous  name,  and  he  has  added  to  the  t)i)inion  that  they  Avere  raised 
by  eartht[uakes,  his  settled  conviction  that  these  awful  jjcaks  '•  are  hoUoAV,  as 
may  be  guessed  by  the  resounding  of  the  rain  upon  the  level  tops."  Xor 
do  Ave  knoAV  that  this  ingenious  theory  has  ever  been  actually  disproA'cd. 
The  mountains  rose  daily  to  his  view,  and  were,  he  says,  Aveather  signs  to 
ju'ople  iit  the  coast. 

While    searching   the   country    round    for   curiosities   of    all    sorts,    John 
Josselyn  laid  his  hand  upon  something  that  he  had  never  seen  before.     He 


IIALHEKIi. 


FROM  SCARBOROUGH  TO  PORTLAND  HEAD. 


135 


quickly  took  it  off  again  on  finding  the  thing  wos  alive  with  hornets,'  without 
adding  it  to  his  collection.  Alexander  or  Napoleon  would  have  done  the  same 
thing. 

Longfellow   has  somewhere   made   use  of  the   incident  in  the  descriptive 

lines :  — 

"  I  feel  like  Master  Josselj'ii  when  he  found 
The  hornets'  nest,  and  thought  it  some  strange  fruit, 
UiUil  the  seeds  came  out,  and  then  he  dropped  it." 

Josselyn  also  points  out,  what  would  be  highly  improper  to-day,  that  a  man 
could  drink  more  brandy  in  Maine  with  impunity  than  in  England.  If  true, 
this  statement  Avoidd  go  far  to  bear 
out  the  theory  that  the  climate  is 
changing.  Among  other  "natural, 
physical,  and  chyrurgical "  rarities 
he  mentions  the  mineral  spring  at 
Black  Point,  which  he  says  would 
"color  a  spade  as  if  hatcht  with 
silver." 

Other  glimpses  Josselyn  gives  us 
of  the  life  and  manners  of  the  people 
are  generally  in  a  more  serious  vein. 
At  this  time  Scarborough  consisted  of 
about  fifty  dwelling  houses  and  a 
magazine  or  storehouse.     The  people 

had  "  store  of  neat  cattle  and  horses,  700  or  800  sheej),  goats,  and  swine." 
They  also  had  a  mill  to  grind  their  corn.  This  is  a  valuable  off-haiul  sketch  of 
Scarborough  as  it  existed  just  before  the  first  Indian  war  depopulated  it ;  for, 
in  fact,  we  have  none  other. 

"  The  people,"  Josselyn  says,  "  may  be  divided  into  magistrates,  husband- 
men or  planters^  and  fishermen ;  of  the  magistrates  some  be  Royalists,  the  rest 
perverse  spirits ;  the  like  are  the  planters  and  fishers  both ;  others  meer 
fishers."  There  were  no  shopkeepers.  Boston  took  their  fish  and  exported  it 
to  "Lisbonne,  Bilbo,  Burdeaux,  Marsiles,  Taloou  [Toidon],  Kochel.  Roan, 
etc."  He  goes  on  to  explain  how  their  trading  was  done:  "The  merchant 
comes  in  with  a  walking  tavern,  —  a  bark  laden  Avith  the  legitimate  blond  of 
the  rich  grape,  which  they  bring  from  IMiial,  ^ladera,  etc.,  lirandy,  Rhum  and 
tobaco.  Coming  ashore,  he  gives  them  a  taste  or  two  which  so  charms  them 
that  they  will  not  go  to  sea  again  till  they  have  had  their  drunken  frt)lic  out.'" 
Quarrelling  and  fighting  usually  acc(mipanied  these  drunken  sprees. 

The  industrious  and  frugal  obtained  a  comfortable  livelihood,  he  says,  but 
those  "  of  a  droanish  disposition,"  of  whom  Josselyn  says  there  were  too  nuiny, 
grew  "  wretchedly  jtoor  and  miserable."  This  does  not  seem  so  surprising 
when  we  read  a  little  farther  on  that  certain  individuals  among  them  '*  had  a 
custom  of  taking  tobacco,  sleeping  at  noon,  sitting  long  at  meals ;  sometimes 


FlSHIX(i-SIIA  I.I.OI',    1():50. 


(.  S  >\i) 


r  I 


^^m 


13G 


THE   1'1NI:-T1{EE   COAST. 


four   in   a  day ;  ami   now  and   then   drinking   a  dram   of  the   bottle   extni- 
ordinarily." 

The  Scarborough  people  were  perhaps  not  more  superstitious  than  their 
neighbors  to  the  east  or  west ;  only  Josselyn  was  on  the  spot  to  make  a  note  of 
everything  that  floated  in  the  air.  Jle  relates  a  fairy-tah;  about  a  certain 
Master  Foxwell  who,  while  lying  off  shon;  one  night  in  his  shallop,  saw  a 
weird  band  of  men  and  wonu-n  dancing  round  a  blazing  bontin;  on  the  bi^ach. 
They  called  out  to  him  to  come  on  shore  and  join  their  revel.  True  to  his  sur- 
name, and  mistrusting  that  all  was  not  as  it  should  be,  Foxwell  refused  to  be 
inveigled  by  these  dancing  sirens,  though  he  did  go  the  next  morning,  finding 
half-burnt  brands,  marks  of  numerous  fo(jtprints,  and  other  like  evidences  of 
the  midnight  orgie  strewed  alxmt  th<^  si)<»t. 

Among  other  happenings,  the  gentle  Josselyn  refers  to  tli<!  jtremature  cold 
snap  of  September  15,  1(104,  by  whicdi  the  iidialiitants  "  were  shrewdly 
pinched  ";  but  he  himself,  fortunately  having  "  two  or  three  bottles  of  excellent 

Passada,  mad(^  a  shift  to  bear  it  out."  We  (!an 
readily  believe  what  he  says  of  the  wonderful  num- 
ber of  herrings  (^ast  u})  at  the  harbor  on  one  occa- 
sion,—  so  many  that  one  "  might  have  gom;  half- 
way the  leg  in  them  for  a  mile  together";  but 
our  credulity  is  severely  tasked  by  his  a(!count  of 
frogs  standing  a  foot  high,  (jf  wild  turkeys  weigh- 
ing sixty  pounds,  or  when  he  is  asserting  that  tlie 
Indians  usually  delivered  their  speeches  in  regular 
hiixameter  verse.  And  so  we  reluctantly  take  our 
leave  of  him. 

Let   us  go   back  a  little.     Jfaving  sailed  on  a 

voyage  to  liarbadoes,   Cammock  left  his   wib;  and 

jirojjerty  to  tin?  care  of  Henry  trosselyii.    Cammock 

died  whihf  absent,  and  Josselyn  married  the  widow, 

with  whom    also  he   took  the  deceased  husband's 

whole  estate.    Many  years  of  strife  Avith  his  restless 

neighbor  Cleeves  on  one  side,  and  the  Massachusetts 

authorities  on  the  other,  were  followed  by  the  appearance  of  a  new  and  more 

formidabh;  (claimant,  whose  rights  were  to  be  asserted  with  the  tomahawk  and 

scalping-knife. 

The  chi(^ftain  Mogg,  whose  band  committed  most  of  tlu;  atrocities  in  this 
r  'gion  during  the  continuance  of  l'hili])'s  War,  suddenly  showiid  himself  at 
Hlack  Point,  at  the  head  of  a  hundred  warriors,  in  Otitober,  l(i70.  Tlu^  inh!il)i- 
t.ints  instantly  fled  to  Josselyn's  strong  house  for  protection.  Instead  of 
burning  his  fingers  by  assaiilting  it,  the  wily  Mogg  demanded  a  parley,  which 
was  granted  him;  and  Josselyn,  who  knew  Mogg  well,  came  out  of  the  garrison 
to  talk  with  him.  ^logg  said  all  the  j)eo])le  should  have  leave  to  dejjart 
unharmed  with  their  goods,  but  that  he  must  have  the  jdace.     Josselyn  agreed 


ANCIENT    KLAGON. 


FROM   SCARBOIIOUGII   TO  TORTLANI)   HEAD. 


1.37 


MOCCASIN. 


to  these  terms,  but  on  going  back  to  the  garrison  he  found  it  de.serted  by  all 
except  some  of  his  own  servants.  No  choice  was  therefore  left  him  but  a 
surrender. 

The  garrison  was,  however,  reoccupicd,  and  an  eifort  nuide  to  maintain  it. 
In  May,  1(>77,  Mogg  again  attacked  it.  This  time  the 
Indians  mc^t  so  .stout  a  resistance  that  they  drew  off  after 
their  rcidoubtable  leader  M(jgg  had  been  made  to  bite  the 
dust.  Yet  .a  more  sanguinary  affair  took  place  in  June,  when 
the  brave  but  unwary  Captain  Swett  Avas  led  into  a  trap 
while  making  a  scout  in  the  ntnghborhood.  His  large  force 
of  raw  soldiers  and  friendly  Indians  was  speedily  over- 
powered and  cut  to  pieces,  more  than  fifty  being  killed, 
including  Swett  himself. 

Diu'ing  the  subseqiumt  wars,  the  place  was  twice  aban- 
doned and  as  often  resettled.  These  repeated  d(!populations, 
extending  over  a  space  of  thirty  years,  with  tlu!iraccomi)any- 
ing  destruction  of  houses,  barns,  fencH's,  —  in  short,  every 
vestige  of  the  husbandnum's  labor,  —  had  so  obliterated  all 
landmarks  that  when  new  settlers  came,  the  ancient  unites  and  bounds  were 
only  recovered  with  the  aid  of  tlui  oldest  i)lanters.  In  none  of  the  old  ])lanta- 
tions  did  the  storm  of  war  rag(!  with  more  ri'lcntlcss  fury  or  leave  such  utter 
desolation  in  its  track.  Indeed,  it  might  btf  said  that  for  forty  years  the 
history  of  this  plantation  is  writtcui  in  blood.  AVhat  has  been  recounted  here 
is  meant  to  serve  rather  as  a  sample  than  stand  for  a  history. 

Therti  are  two  principal  summer  colonies  at  Scarborough,  one  of  which  occu- 
pies the  site  of  th(!  ancient  settlement  at  I'rout's 
Neck,  the  other  skirting  the;  long  sand-beach  to 
the  east  of  it.  In  its  jjliysical  features,  the  first 
is  (juite  the  counterpart  of  Biddcd'ord  I'ool ;  the 
last  looks  out  over  the  beach  uiton  the  broad 
Atlantic.  At  night,  the  Caiie  Elizabeth  lights 
flash  out  in  tlu;  east;  wliiU^  from  the;  west.  Wood 
Lsland  now  and  then  turns  its  flaming  eye,  red  as 
with  watching,  into  the  darkening  sea. 

After  visiting  the  points  of  interest  in  and 
about  Sitarborough,  I  .set  my  i'lu-v,  toward  the  (Jape 
Elizal)eth  shore  one  sunny  morning  in  .June,  with 
the  Two  Lights  as  my  first  i)rospective  halting- 
place. 

May  is  a  fickle  month  in  Maine.  The  weather  is  apt  to  be  damji,  fog?  .md 
overcast.  Leafy  .June  also  has  her  vagaries,  but  there  is  now  and  then  .„  day 
which  nearly  realizes  that  perfection  which  the  poet  Lowell  claims  for  it. 

In  passing  out  of  Scarborough  by  the  shore  road,  we  come  directly  to  the 
brow  of  a  moderately  high  hill,  from  which,  on  looking  off  inland,  the  first 


TURNSTILE. 


i  m 


•  j,;« 


'^«  r 


,  ri::r 


•  t  ■  J I 


i^^ 


V  i 


■jl  -. 


l.'iS 


TIM':  I'lNK-ruKi':  coast. 


!l 


, 


object  we  see  is  Mount  Wasliington.  J5olo\v  ii.s,  stivtohed  out  cool  and  glossy 
aiuoug  its  nunulows,  is  the  Spurwink,  and  just  beyond  this  stream,  the  h)ng, 
boM  promontory  of  Caiie  Elizabeth "  forms  the  other  side  of  a  narrow  valley, 
which  we  must  first  ascend  in  order  to  get  to  the  bridge,  by  which  it  is  crossed. 
At  our  right,  another  road  descends  the  hillside  to  lliggins'  beach. 

Gaining  the  high  ground  on  the  Cape  side,  where  there  is  a  (quaint  little 
meeting-house,  with  a  rather  i)o])ulous  graveyard,  we  find  a  scattered  settlement 
extending  along  the  banks  of  tlie  S])urwink  to  tlie  sea.  All  this  shore  has  been 
held  by  those  owning  tlie  nanu>  of  Jordan  ever  since  the  country  was  first  set- 
tled, and  through  th(>  tliick  and  thin  of  old  and  lU'W  wars,  or  tlie  thousand  and 
one  temptations  to  seek  homes  elsewhere,  the  Jordans  have  stiutk  to  their  origi- 
nal acres  with  the  pertinacity  of  a  Highland  clan,  and  have  continued  to  flourish 


iif' 


1: 


I 


k=^ 


s^ 


-4._fr.4:'l'r 


.  MfH-\»«A\    \\. 


I   rv^-rr 


ukiimonk's  island. 


until,  as  I  was  credibly  informed,  out  of  fifty  or  sixty  scholars  in  the  district 
school,  there  were  not  half  a  dozen  of  any  other  name. 

All  Cape  Elizabeth  is  full  of  sudden  dii)S,  or  up-starting  knobs  of  half-bare 
ledges,  interspersed  here  and  there  with  a  plantation  of  oaks  or  a  forest  of 
spruces. 

From  Spurwink  two  more  miles  will  take  us  to  the  sIkuv  close  upon  Rich- 
mond's Ishmd."  This  island,  with  an  outward  sweej)  of  the  mainland,  forms 
([uite  a  deep  indent,  at  the  bottom  of  which  there  is  another  ])rettv  beach,  Avith 
a  hotel  and  cottages  at  the  back,  and  a  gleaming  line  of  breakers  at  tlie  front. 
The  land  here  sIojjcs  off  finely  to  the  Avater.  I  was  (juite  charmed  Avith  the 
locality,  in  spite  of  its  absurd  name  of  BoAvery  Beach.  ^Ve  are  noAV  again  upon 
ground  having  considerable  Instoric  and  picturesque  distinction. 

Mad  XeAv  England  definittdy  passed  to  French  control,  in  all  likelihood 
Bichmond's  Tslund  would  hnvt'  retained  the  more  poetic  name  of  Isle  of  Bac- 
chus, Avhieh   Champlaiu  first  gave   it,  and  very  possibly  some  exiled  seigneur 


FROM  SCARHOKOUGH  TO  POUTLAN'D  HKAD. 


m) 


would  havo  boon  raisini;  f^rapos  there  now,  instead  of  the  cabbages  for  wliich  it 
is  so  famed.     «S'/c  frati.sit.     At  any  rate,  the  ishxnd  has  borne  no  ineonspicnous 
]>art  in  tlie  eonmu'rcial  annals  ut  Maine,  far  back  in  the  time  when  her  islands 
were  looked   npon  as 
being  u\on'   available 
for    connueree    and 
fisherv  than  the  main- 
land itself. 

C'hamplain  saw 
some  ripe  grajies 
there,  which  he  jiro- 
nonnced  as  fine  as 
those  of  France,  and 
he  was  jjositive  that  if 
cnltivated  they  wonld 
prodnce  good  Avine. 
But  then  Champlain 
had  not  seen  France 
for  some  time.  They 
Avould  have  proved 
but  sour  grapes,  I 
fancy,  undOr  the  pres- 
ent code  of  ]\Iaine. 
But  a  truce  to  these 
pleasantries. 

We  know  that  a 
certain  Walter  IJag- 
nall  had  established 
hims(>lf  on  this  island, 
already  known  as 
Eichmond's,  perhai)S 
as  early  as  hVJS,  al- 
though we  do  not 
know  who  he  was  or 
Avhenoe  he  came,  nor 
are  the  fellow's  ante- 
cedents of  much  im- 
portance. A  i)atent 
for   the    island,    with 

some  part  of  the  adjacent  mainland,  was  made  out  to  him  three  years  later; 
but  by  this  time  "Great  Watt."  as  BagnalFs  contemporaries  call  him.  was 
lying  in  the  grav(>  he  had  dug  for  himself,  so  to  speak,  l)y  cheating  and  roln 
bing  the  Indians,  with  Avhom  he  seems  to  have  carried  on  a  consideral)le  trade. 
One  night   in    Octol)er,  Idol,  a  party  of  them  passed  over  to  the  island,  slew 


sciiooi.iioisi;  rniun. 


i  ii     :,    i      til! 


i'H 


I  J  M 


1    '■;  ,j 


\\  i 

.M  1 

'1l  m 

•  P  1 

||   1 

''<!  1 

' ''  1'  fl 

-i|  1 

IB 

140 


Till-:   I'lNK-riUCE   COAST. 


H 


II 


Bagnall  and  a  man  of  his,  and  after  i)Uin(lering  the  tradt^r's  lionse,  burned  it  tc 
the  ground,  thus  returning  the  ishind  to  its  original  solituch'. 

The  next  occupant  was  John  \Vint(!r,  who  (ranie  out  to  New  Enghind  as  the 
factor  of  Robert  TreLiwney,  merchant,  of  Plymouth,  to  set  up  a  fishery  at  the 
island,  ])atti;rned  after  that  of  jNlonhegan.  Winter  was  on  the  ground  in  April, 
H\'.i'2.  (Jne  of  his  first  acts  was  to  warn  off  George  Cleeves**  and  Uiidiard 
Tutiker,  who  had  already  built  on  the  mainland  next  the  island,  [is  trespassers. 
They  left  the  next  spring  when  Winter  returned  with  men  and  materials  for 
beginnnig  active  work.  From  this  time  forward,  luitil  the  station  was  broken 
up  l»y  Winter's  death,  Kichmond's  Island  was  as  well  known  on  both  sides  of 
the  Atlantif^,  i)erha])S,  as  Portland  is  to-day. 

When  the  establishment  was  in  its  most  flourishing  state,  Winter  had  about 
sixty  nuMi  under  him,  for  Avhose  spiritual  good  Trelawney  had  provided,  as  a 
chaplain,  one  Kichard  Gibson,  the  same  person  who  is  found  a  little  later 
stirring  up  a  revolt  at  the  Isles  of  Shoals.  Wlien  Gibson  left,  the  living  Avent 
to  the  Rev.  Robert  Jordan,^  who  prc^sently  married  Sarah  Winter,  through 
whom,  at  Winter's  death,  Jordan  became  possessed  of  the  whole  Trelawney 
property.     Willis,  the  historian  of  Portland,  relates  that  "the  wife  of  one  of 

Robert  Jordan's  descendants,  needing  some  paper  to 
keep  her  pastry  from  burning,  took  Trelawney's 
jjatent  from  a  chest  of  pai)ers,  and  used  it  for  that 
purpose." 

Go  where  you  Avill  about  Cape  Elizabeth,  you 
cannot  help  remarking  the  attention  that  is  paid  to 
the  raising  of  cabbages ;  whichever  way  you  turn 
you  are  sure  to  see  cabbage-heads.  Indeed,  the  cul- 
tivation of  this  highly  nutritious  vegetable  is  one  of 
the  earliest  traditions ;  for  I  remember  having  read 
how  a  man's  life  was  saved  here,  during  the  Avars, 
by  throAving  himself  flat  on  his  fa'-e  in  his  cabbage- 
patch.  The  crop  of  1<S88  amounted  to  betAveen  five 
and  six  thousand  tons.  Just  fancy  it !  six  thousand 
tons  of  cabbage-heads  raised  among  these  rocks !  One 
is  obliged  to  admit  that  a  field  of  the  red  sort  looks 
very  pretty  about  harvest  time,  —  not  so  very  unlike  enormous  Jacqueminot 
roses  stuck  in  the  ground. 

It  is  a  long  mile  from  the  point  Avhere  the  road  turns  off  before  you  reach 
the  Two  Lights,  to  Avhich  Ave  are  guided  by  the  black  tips  of  the  lanterns 
peering  above  the  Avoods  for  the  last  half  hour.  These  lights  mark  the 
extreme  southerly  limit  of  Casco  Bay,  and  Avith  Seguin  at  the  eastern  portal, 
they  signal  the  entrance  thirty  miles  out  on  the  Atlantic.  They  are,  in  truth, 
the  eyes  of  the  coast,  purblind  by  day  and  shining  only  at  niglit,  like  a  cat's. 

It  is  breathing-time  Avith  the  keeper ;  we  have  done  our  eight  miles  since  break 
fast-time,  so  Ave  stretch  ourselves  along  the  soft  turf  for  a  little  chat  together. 


INDIAN    SNOWSHOE. 


!i:| 


FROM  SCAllllOUOUGH   TO    PORTLAND    IIKAI). 


141 


Less  than  forty  years  ago,  our  liglithnuso  service  was  probably  the  worst 
among  eivilized  nations.  One  man  delivered  all  the  suj)i)lies,  n\ade  such  repairs 
as  \n'  liked,  and  stranger  to  say,  was  entrusted  witli  about  all  the  supervision 
that  the  whole  range  of  (!oast  lights  received  from  Vermilion  Bay  to  Quoddy 
Head.  He  had  neither  written  nor  printed  instructions  from  anybody,  nor 
were  any  proviJ3d  even  for  the  keei)ers,  nor  was  there  any  system  of  instruc- 
tion or  examination  whatever.  In  eonsecpu'uce,  there  was  constant  (!om[)laint, 
of  the  inferior  (piality  of  the  oil,  the  polish,  the  frames,  —  everything  in  short,  — 
until  one  day  the  venerable  head  of  the  lighthouse  board  siuhlenly  awcjke, 
rubbed  his  eyes,  and  fell  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage  on  being  told  that  the  whole 
service  was  going  to  the  (h-vil. 

lirother  Jonathan,  good,  easy  soul,  submits  to  being  victimized,  until  for- 
bearan(!e  (teases  to  be  a  virtue  ;  nor  is  he  easily  convinced  of  his  errors,  but  when 
onc<»  fnlly  aroused  he  generally  sets  things  to  rights  with  a  steady  hand.  The 
lightlumse  service  is  now  excellent,  with  its  duties  so  minutely  detined  that  the 
keepers  are  every  day  expecting  an  order  to  report  the  nund)er  of  flies  that 
light  on  the  tower  from  meridian  to  meridian. 

Fog-whistles  and  fog-trumpets  have,  as  is  well  known, 
contributed  greatly  to  the  safety  of  coast  navigation.  It  is 
not  generally  known,  I  think,  that  the  telephont^  itself  was 
originally  a  contrivance  for  sounding  alarm  signals,  at  sea  or 
on  shore,  by  means  of  certain  modulated  tones  which  could  be 
produced  by  compressed  air  acting  on  the  mechanism,  some- 
thing in  the  manner  of  the  calliope,  and  controlled  by  stops 
on  which  the  operator  played  such  notes,  either  of  simple  direc- 
tion or  warning,  as  the  case  might  recj^uire,  —  a  musical  alarm  trumpet,  in  short. 
The  Two  Lights  of  Cai)e  Elizabeth  stand  up  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  narrow 
granite  ridge  raised  tifty  or  sixty  feet  above  the  low  ground  around  it.  That 
gives  an  elevation  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  from  low-water  mark  to  the;  top 
of  the  liintern,  or  focal  piano  rather.  They  are  cylindrical  iron  towers  of  exactly 
the  same  height,  as  bare  of  ornament  as  a  bridge  caisson  or  a  Croton  water-pipe. 
In  fact,  as  far  as  looks  go,  they  are  as  like  as  two  peas  in  a  pod.  It  was  found 
necessary  to  place  them  well  back  from  the  water's  edge,  as  the  bluff  on  which 
they  stand  is  broken  off  abruptly  at  a  distance  of  tifty  or  sixty  paces  from  the 
shore.  They  are  what  is  called  range  lights,  one  being  a  first-order  fixed,  the 
other  a  flashing  light,  and  very  brilliant. 

The  outlook  opened  to  us  here,  whether  of  sea  or  shore,  of  windy  cape  or 
tumbling  surf,  is  uncommonly  fine,  if  only  one  could  get  rid  of  the  train  of 
ideas  that  these  roaring  reefs  on  one  hand,  and  the  life-saving  station  on  the 
other,  with  all  its  paraphernalia  of  life-boats  and  bombs,  signals  and  beacons,  so 
infallibly  suggest.  Even  in  the  season  of  calm  seas  and  serene  skies  these  gray 
little  cabins  by  the  sea  constantly  remind  us  of  lurking  dangers,  and  of  the 
heroic  but  ill-rewarded  efforts  of  the  men  of  that  service  to  rescue  their  fellow- 
beings  from  a  watery  grave. 


A    (iltO.VT. 


ii 


m 


m 


141' 


TllK    I'lNK-TKKK   COAST. 


II 


^1    I 


All  about  us  tilt'  watt'rs  are  sown  with  ja^'gt'd  rtH'fs,  and  tlu'  sliores  closely 
surrounded  by  rugged  hunii>s  of  rock  with  narrow  gullies  between,  into  which 
the  sea  incessantly  plunges  in  rushing  coils  and  echlies.  These  dangerous  rocks 
and  reef's  have  an  evil  repute  anuuig  sailors.  See  now  how  gently  the  sea 
breaks  on  yonder  reef !  The  waves  seem  aetiuilly  caressing  it.  Well,  it  was 
just  there,  on  that  very  spot,  that  I  once  saw  a  ship  lying  a  dismal  wreck,  with 
tills  same  treacherous  sea  Hying  high  over  her  decks. 

Vonder  white  pillar  gleaming  in  the  east  is  Portland  Light,  three  miles  away; 
and  ill  very  clear  weather  Seguiii  can  easily  lu;  made  out,  twenty  miles  away. 

Lying  as  they  do  at  the  entranci'  to  the  most  i're(piented  harbor  on  tlu'  coast, 
the  iiointed  reefs  naturally  pick  up  many  vessels.  Worst  of  all  tlu'  shipwrecks 
that  have  hai)pened  here  was  that  of  the  Allan  steamship  Bohemian,  which 
struck  on  Tnindy's  reef  and  became  a  total  loss,  strewing  the  coast  with 
the  wreckage  of  ship  and  cargo  as  far  as  Cape  Ann.  where  two  boots  came 
ashore  each  with  a  human  foot  in  it, 

liut  here  is  the  story  of  a  single  day. 
Septeiiil)er  1*(),  l.S(Sl>,  ushered  in  a  tremendous 
gale  oil  the  coast.  It  blew  great  guns  from  the 
northeast,  and  all  the  wide  (x-eau  f<)r  as  far  as 
eye  could  reach  Avas  one  waste  of  broken  water. 
The  offing  Avas  eagerly  scanned  by  the  men  of 
the  life-patrol  for  any  sign  of  a  vessel  in  dis- 
tress. At  three  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  gale 
was  at  its  height,  (.'aptain  Trundy,  (d"  the  life- 
saving  station,  sighted  a  wreck  driving  before  it 
in  the  offing.  Though  there  was  but  one  chance 
in  a  hundred  of  a  boat's  living  in  that  sea,  he  un- 
hesitatingly determined  to  take  that  chance. 
The  order  was  cpiickly  given  to  niiin  the  life- 
boat. Altlumgh  every  man  of  the  crew  knew  the 
desperate  nature  of  the  attempt,  there  was  ik)  Hinching.  A  dozen  nervous 
hands  grasped  the  1  "  ^i'les.  Out  into  the  surf  went  the  buoyant  life-boat,  and 
then    came    the   *■  t   the   oars  to  force  a  way  out  foot  by  loot  through 

breakers.     Af  .g  clear  of  the  tojjpling  seas,  which  threatened  to  overset 

them,  they  1  .»  thread  their  way  through  the  white  hedge  of  breakers,  that 

only  in  such  ,->.., ims  unmask  the  intricate  network  of  outlying  reefs  and  shoals. 
It  took  more  than  an  hour  to  do  this.  Every  shoal  was  a  breaker,  every  breaker 
showed  its  rock  of  danger.  Then  came  the  long,  hard  pull  through  a  tremen- 
dous sea,  where  a  steady  hand  and  eye  at  the  steering  oar  was  necessary  to 
avoid  being  swamped,  out  to  the  distressed  vessel.  At  length  they  came  up 
with  her,  driving  miserably  on  before  the  gale,  a  deserted  wreck,  rolling  heavily 
from  side  to  side,  her  mainmast  broken  short  off,  her  sails  and  rigging  dragginj^ 
alongside.  One  moment  she  was  wallowing  dee])  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  thj 
next  struggling  up  to  the  crest  again,  with  the  water  pouring  off  her  deluged 


SKAMARK. 


FHOM   SCARnnHorfJlI  T(»   mUTLANn   IIRAD. 


14a 


(leeks  ill  fifty  streams.  Finding'  no  liviii<,'  tliiii;^'  oii  board,  for  tlie  vess'-'  ad 
bei'ii  left  to  be  the  s|iort  of  the  K''l«'<  the  life-savers  abandoned  the  dereliet  to 
lier  fate,  and  after  a  stul»lM>ru  fight  witli  the  cnrliiig  monsters  that  broke  all 
around  them  and  rejM'atedly  flun>.-  the  boat-steeror  into  the  bottom  of  the  l)oat, 
steering-oar  and  all,  they  succeeded  in  once  again  running  the  gauntlet  of  the 
breakers  to  the  beaeh. 

Un  this  same  afternoon  it  was  reported  that  two  vessels  had  been  sighted  (irt' 
the  Cape,  one  of  them  lK)ttom  up.  A  large  three-masted  si'hooner  was  also 
made  out  with  headgear  gone,  and  .sails  split,  running  before  the  gale,  .\nother 
was  driven  pa.st  the  Lights  at  race-horse  speed,  under  bare  poles,  into  the  Hying 
scud,  whic.  .  vvallowed  her  as  suddenly  as  she  liad  a])peared.  And  finally  two 
Cape  fishermen,  who 
knew  every  kernel  of 
sand  upon  the  coast, 
were  dashed  upon  the 
rocks,  escajiing  with 
tlieir  lives,  but  losing 
their  boat. 

The      life  -  jiatrol- 
meii's    ]iatli  hugs  the 
shore.     1  took  it  from 
choice  on   account  of 
the     enticing    succes- 
sion  of  ])retty   coves 
niched  in  between  out- 
stretched i)oints  that 
T  saw  before  me.      In 
these  coves  the   hardy  h 
folds    its    white    and    purple    blossoms 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  incessant  dash  of  the 
waves.     Talk  about  decorative  art  I     I)ecora- 
tive  nature  has  made  tlie.se  wan  and  haggard 
.st(mes  blossom  fairly  in  s]iite  of  themselves. 
I  now  first    remarked    intruding    masses   of 

gray  schist  lying  about  among  the  granite.  These  look  so  much  like  huge 
lumps  of  dirty  dough  baked  l»y  exj)osure  to  sun  and  air.  that  one  could 
almost  fancy  Holmes'  giant  hail  been  fiinging  his  ])udding  aliout  again. 

At  l*ond  Cove  the  road  again  takes  us  u]).  Thence  to  I'ortland  Head  is  but 
a  short  Avalk.  The  cliff  on  which  the  lighthouse  is  built  is  not  high,  Imt  is 
exposed  and  ragged.  It  was  certainly  known  by  its  present  name  as  long  ago 
as  irno,  or  long  before  the  name  attached  to  the  i)ort  it  defends.  The  light- 
house stands  at  the  entrance  to  the  ship  channel.  What  Ave  new  see  is  the  old, 
rough-rubble  tower,  topped  out  witli  brick  and  iron  twenty  feet  higher.  It  was 
the  first  to  display  a  light  on  this  coast,  it  having  been  erected  in  the  year  171M>. 


I'OUTL.VM*    I.Iiilir. 


i! 


144 


THE    I'lXE-TREE  COAST. 


Ranging  between  east  and  northeast  from  the  lighthouse  are  the  outermost 
ishmds  of  Caseo  Hay,  —  the  i)eerless  bay  of  all  the  I'ine-Trce  Coast.  Lonely 
Kam  Island,  with  its  tripod,  is  the  nearest  to  us.  At  intervals  the  doleful  ding- 
dong,  ding-dong  of  a  fog-bell  eomes  to  us  across  the  water,  lieyond  Ram  Island 
are  the  dangerous  Outer  Green,  and  Junk  of  Pork,  —  a  tough  morsel  even  for  old 
salts.  Still  farther  out  between  the  eapes,  Hali'-AVay  Roek  raises  its  monu- 
meutal  shaft  of  gray. 

We  are  now  entering  the  region  of  seashore  cottages  lagain,  —  the  summer 
home  and  haunt  of  fashi(mable  Portland. 

Xot  far  beyond  the  lighthouse  we  (uime  to  Cape  Cottage,  a  favorite  resort, 
built  of  dark  gray  stone  taken  from  the  ledges  er()i)ping  out  about  here.  John 
Neal,  ])oet,  journalist,  lav/y  •,  and  critic,  was  also  the  author  of  this  build- 
ing. His  keen  ai)preciation  for  the  unsurpassed  beauty  of  the  site,  let  us 
believe,  was  liis  controlling  nu)tive. 

The  Cape  now  begins  to  take  on  the  character  of 

apo])ulous  town.     Indications  of  our  near  approa<'h 

J  I     '  h  \.     '^^^^^^=5^  to  the  citv  nu>i>t  us  on  every  side,  and  admonish  us, 

freo  and  careless  pedestrian  that  we  are,  to  brush 
the  dust  from  our  garments,  and  to  walk  more 
sedately.  AVith  self-confessed  reluctance,  therefore, 
we  shake  off  the  dust  of  the  road,  and  once  more 
})ass  within  the  l)()r(ltn\s  of  civilization,  for  which 
we  do  not  feel  at  all  Httcd  aftiu-  a  week's  unstinted 
companionship  with  nature.  ''  God  made  the  coun- 
try, and  man  made  the  town." 

But  tln'  sea  is  still  there,  behind  us,  and  were 
we  to  meet  the  doom  of  Lot's  wife  herself,  we  could 
not  help  looking  back. 
The  shore  now  skirts  the  ship  channel,  formed  by  the  cluster  of  large  and 
small  islands  that  here  crowd  in  toward  th(>  Cape,  so  making  a  family  grouj)  of 
marked  interest  in  a  ))icturesque  sense,  of  peculiar  imi)ortance  to  the  .seaport 
they  have  helped  to  create.  They  are,  in  fact,  the  sea-wall  of  Portland  and  its 
harbor.  As  such  they  play  far  too  imi)ortant  a  part  in  maintaining  tlie  integrity 
of  the  i)ort  to  be  lightly  passed  over. 

First  to  indentify  them ;  The  outermost  one,  with  the  large  hotel  crowning 
it,  is  Cusling's.  '.'.nat  inviting-looking  spot,  in  which  so  many  have  found  an 
abiding  <'harm,  was  the  ghnmiy  refuge  of  some  of  the  survivors  of  the  terrible 
massacre  of  1(»7<>.  when  luiman  bloodhounds  were  on  their  track.  It  has  now 
no  otlier  enemy  than  tlie  cliangefid  sea.  It  is  liest  known,  however,  to  a  later 
generation,  by  tiie  superb  castellated  mass  of  crag  piled  on  crag,  .set  at  its  north- 
ern point,  that  from  its  peculiar  ashen  hue  is  known  as  White  Head.  This 
colossal  bulwark  of  the  i.sle,  be  it  said,  is  without  doubt  the  most  individual 
ocean  cliff  to  be  met  with  on  the  coast  of  Maine,  if  not  the  highest;  and  as 
wai'den  to  the  ]iort  over  which  it  has  wat(died  so  long,  it  has  obtained  a  wide 


GAlNISfi 


1    jj 

:   pM 

'  i.iiy 

'--f- 


I     '■: 


wiiiTi;  iii:\i».   roKTi.vNhs  sk.xti\ei,  cmff. 


FROM  SCARBOROUGH  TO  PORTLAND  HEAD. 


147 


celebrity,  not  only  with  those  who  sail  the  ocean,  but  with  artists  and  poets, 
who  ."re  of  all  people  the  most  susceptible  to  the  sublime,  and  the  quickest  to 
show  their  appreciation  of  it.  The  extreme  seaward  projection  of  this  cliff  is 
so  formed  or  broken  as  to  present  the  gigantic  profile  of  a  human  face  to 
perfection.  In  some  places  the  sea  has  liewed  and  hacked  its  way  into  the 
very  bowels  of  the  cliff,  where  it  roars  and  plunges  like  a  mad  bull. 

"  Beyond  it  the  laden  ships  go  out, 
<  »iU  in  tlie  open  sea, 
To  battle  with  danger,  and  storm  and,  doubt, 
And  the  ocean's  treachery." 

Next  north  is  Peak's  Island,  which  is  both  winter  suburb  and  summer  play- 
ground for  Portland,  it  having  a  quite  considerable  resident  population.  This 
is  where  the  city  people  run  down  of  an  afternoon,  to  get  a  mouthful  of  sea 
air  and  to  l)e  amused.  House  Island  will  be  known  by  the  gray  walls  and 
green  ramparts  of  Fort  Scammell.  The  first  habitation  of  a  Avhite  man  in  this 
region  is  supposed  to  have  stood  here.  The  north  half  of  this  island,  where  we 
see  the  flakes  spread  out,  has  been  occupied  as  a  fishing-station  ever  siuoe  Port- 
land was  a  fishing-village  of  half  a  hundred  houses.  Great  and  Little  Hog 
islands,  now  turned  by  an  exacting  testheticism  into  Great  and  Little  Diamond, 
lie  next  inside  of  Peak's,  and  a  little  to  the  south  of  it.  Picturesque  and 
useless  Fort  Gorges  reposes  on  an  isolated  ledge.  These,  with  Cow  Island,  a 
bare,  treeless  thing,  complete  the  group  of  sheltering  islands. 

Simonton's  Cove,  next  south  of  Fort  l*reble,'"  is  the  supposed  scene  of  Major 
Chui'ch's  fight  with  the  Indians  in  1(590,  if  figlit  it  can  be  called  where  one  side 
suffers  all  the  loss.  From  Church's  own  account  of  this  affair,  which  is  in  his 
usual  blustering  vein,  it  is  clear  that  he  was  not  only  taken  by  surprise,  but 
badly  beaten  in  the  bargain. 

The  village  existing  on  this  side  of  the  Cape  long  went  by  its  Indian  name 
of  Purpooduck.  and  there  were  settlers  living  on  the  point  where  Fort  Preble 
stands  as  early  as  the  year  KJoS.  In  circumnavigating  the  Cape,  so  to  speak, 
we  have  thus  traversed  its  most  ancient  settlements. 

At  this  point  [  was  overtaken  by  a  thunder-storm,  wliich  obliged  me  to  take 
refuge  under  a  shed,  where  two  persons  ha<l  already  preceded  me.  The  rain 
poured  down  in  torrents.  "  Well,"  said  one  to  the  other,  "  Felt's  dead ;  died 
this  morning." 

"  I  want  to  know  if  Felt's  dead." 

"  Yes;  they  found  him  hanging  to  a  beam  in  the  barn  ;  shed  was  piled  full 
of  wood  he'd  been  cho))pin'  all  the  week ;  seems  as  though  he  must  have  thought 
of  something.'' 

"  Well,  Felt  was  always  forehanded,  that's  a  fact." 


-J  I 


I 

ill 


II 


148 


THE  PINE-TREE   COAST. 


1  Black  Point  has  been  called  Cammock's  Neck,  Prout's  Neck,  and  Libby's  Neck  from 
successive  proprietors.  Prout's  Neck  is  its  present  designation.  The  name  Black  Point  is 
found  in  the  patent  of  10:51.  Hubbard  speaks  of  it  as  if  it  had  orisfjnated  in  some  quarrel. 
It  included  all  Scarborough  until  the  incorporation  of  the  township  by  this  name  in  KiuH,  with 
the  exception  of  Blue  or  Pine  Point,  opposite.  The  dark  evergreen  growtii,  almost  univer- 
sally called  black  growth  by  the  first  settlers,  was  sufficiently  descriptive  for  fishermen  and 
sailors.  Josluia  Scottow  of  Boston  became  proprietor  of  the  Cannnock  patent,  in  KifiO,  by 
purchase  of  Josselyn,  Cannnock's  heir.     (Read  also  note  4.)     The  first  Libby  settled  liere. 

2  Scarborough  clams  are  sent  in  large  (piantities  to  the  Portland  market  to  be  sold  fresh 
for  family  use.  or  salted  for  bait.  The  industry  is  the  chief  support  of  a  large  number  of  i)eo- 
ple  ;  on  Pine  Point  there  is  a  canning  factory.  Besides  this  export  demand,  the  clam  is  an 
imjKjrtant  article  of  food  to  the  shore  people  in  winter.     In  sinnmer  they  will  not  eat  it. 

^  Richard  Ilunnewell  was  a  noted  Indian  fighter,  who  is  said  to  have  once  beheaded  an 
Indian  with  his  scythe  in  single  combat.  An  account  of  the  affair  in  which  he  fell  may  be 
found  in  "  Williamson's  Maine,"  II.  44.  The  Indians  next  turned  upon  the  garrison,  which  was 
only  abandoned  after  a  brave  defence.  It  was  then  set  on  fire  and  burnt.  Elizabeth  Ham- 
mond, Hunnewell's  daughter,  received  a  gi'ant  of  one  hundred  acres  of  land  from  Massachu- 
setts in  consideration  of  lier  fiitlier's  .services  to  the  country. 

*  Henry  Josselyn,  son  of  Sir  Thomas,  of  Kent,  Knight.  A  strenuous  supporter  of  Gorges, 
who  could  not  yield  to  the  logic  of  events.  He  lost  his  Black  Point  property  (see  note  1) 
before  I'hilip's  War  compelled  him  to  abandt)n  his  residence  there.  Later  on  he  is  found  at 
Pemaquid. 

^  "The  wasps  breed  in  hives  made  like  a  great  pineapple,  tlu'ir  entrance  is  at  the  lower 
end  ;  tlie  whole  hive  is  of  an  ash  color,  but  of  what  matter  it's  made  no  man  knows.  Wax  it 
is  not,  neither  will  it  melt  nor  fry,  but  will  take  fire  suddenly  like  tinder."  — Xeio  Enyland's 
Rtiritits. 

"  ('ai)e  Elizabeth  is  mentioned  by  Levett  in  102.5,  and  inchided  in  the  Lygonia  patent  of 
l(»29-:)().  Robert  Trelawney  received  a  patent  of  it  in  l(i31,  which  also  inchided  I{iehmon(rs 
Island.  Originally,  it  formed  jjart  of  Falmouth.  It  is  put  down  on  Smith's  map  of  1()41,  but 
assigned  to  a  very  different  locality  than  the  true  one. 

'  Richmond's  Island  lit's  half  a  mile  off  the  mainland.  The  water  between  was  always 
fordable  at  low  tide  over  a  strip  of  shingle  joining  it  with  tiie  mainland.  Under  the  lee  of  this 
sjiit  was  the  very  indifferent  harbor.  Oovernnu'ut  has  since  improved  it  by 
building  a  sea-wall,  which  gives  a  refuge  from  northeasters.  Watts'  Ledge 
lies  off  to  the  northeast  of  the  island,  and  ohl  Anthony  and  the  Hue  and 
Cry  rocks  are  bad  ledges  lying  still  farther  out  in  this  direction.  Tlie  island 
is  about  three  miles  in  circuit,  is  good  land,  and  since  its  first  settlement 
has  nearly  always  been  iidiabited.  It  is  now  owned  by  R.  J.  Chisholm, 
of  Portland.  "  The  Trelawney  Papers,"  with  Mr.  Baxter's  memoir  of  (Jeorge 
Cleeves,  best  elucidate  the  early  history  of  this  island  and  its  surroundings. 
"Robert  Jordan  lived  here  some  time."  —  Hikiiahk's  Wttrs,  II.  74.  The 
i.sland  was  the  scene  of  a  bUxnly  encounter  in  lfi7(5. — Ibid.  II.  173.  An 
earthen  crock,  containing  money  and  an  antique  signet  ring,  was  dug  up  in  IH")"),  the  incident 
furnishing  a  them.s  for  Mr.  Ilsley's  historical  novel.  There  was  a  wreck  here,  attended  with 
loss  of  life,  ni  the  winter  of  IHHft. 

"  George  Cleeves,  the  founder  of  Portland,  with  Tucker,  first  built  on  the  mainland,  next 
Richmond's  Island,  about  1(1:5(1.  They  had  cleared,  planted,  and  enclosed  within  palings  four 
feet  high  an  acre  and  a  (luarter  of  ground,  when  driven  off.  The  palings  were  to  keep  out 
wild  animals.  After  being  ousted  here,  they  went  to  Casco  Bay.  Cleeves  induced  Sir  Alexjin- 
tler  Rigby  to  buy  up  the  Lygonia  or  Plough  patent,  so-called,  which  covered  forty  miles  sfjuare 
between  the  Kennebec  and  Cape  Porpoise,  but  which  had  fallen  into  desuetude  in  conse- 


THE    CHOCK. 


FROM   SCAKBOliOUGlI   TO   POUTLAXU   IIKAD, 


149 


(luence  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  company  to  which  it  was  issued.  Ui<;l)y  made  Cleeves  his 
deputy  on  the  spot.  The  Lyjionia  patent  conferred  powers  of  government  widcli,  of  course, 
brou^dit  about  a  conflict  between  Cleeves  and  those  liolding  under  (Inrges.  The  time  of 
Cleeves'  death  is  not  ascertained.     There  is  a  monument  to  him  at  Portland. 

^  Robert  Jordan,  the  jiroiienitor  of  all  the  Jordans  in  Maine,  an  Kpiscopal  cler<?yman  and 
Royalist,  showed  determined  hostility  to  the  claims  of  Mas.sachusetts,  on  the  one  liand,  which 
caused  his  arrest  and  imprisonment  in  1(5().'} ;  and  to  those  of  Cleeves,  on  the  other,  though  he 
became  an  assistant  un(U'r  Ihe  Lygonia  government  afterward.  There  is  a  MS.  of  his  extant 
dated  *'  From  ye  prison  at  Boston,  y  4th  (~^'")  KMW."  Aside  from  personal  feelings,  his  large 
l)roperty,  recovered  on  an  execution  against  Trelawney's  heirs,  was  put  in  jeopardy  when 
Massachusetts  asserted  rights  to  the  .soil  and  government  of  Maine.  Jordan's  house  at  Sjjur- 
wink  was  burned  in  Philip's  War,  the  ince  idiaries  killing,  at  the  .same  time,  Am))ro.se 
Hoaden,  who  kept  the  ferry  there,  and  who  lived  on  Scarborough  side.  —  Williamson,  1.  rj24. 

1"  Fort  Preble  (named  for  Commodore  Kdward  Preble),  with  Fort  Scammell  (named  for 
Colonel  Alexander  Scammell  of  the  Revolutionary  army),  constitute  with  Fort  (iorges,  in  the 
inner  harbor,  the  defences  of  the  ship  channel  of  Portland,  which  the  battery  at  Portland  Head 
is  designed  to  augment,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  render  more  efficient,  as  the  heavy  guns  of  our  new 
cruisers  now  throw  shot  with  effect  nearly  tiglit  miles.  The  channel  forts,  Preble  and  Scani- 
nicll,  wi're  built  in  1HU7-H.  and  called,  in  derision,  ••embargo  forts,"  as  they  were  said  to  be 
designed  to  keep  our  shlppJng  in,  rather  than  the  enemy  out. 


I 


ULUCK    IIOL'SE. 


{ill 


f 


Ili 


1 


r 


i'itt 


:i& 


THE  MID  COAST. 


li 


I 


?  ii 


CHAPTER   XI. 


A     I>AV    IN    POUTI.AN'D. 


"  Often  I  think  of  the  beautiful  town 
That  is  seated  by  tlie  sea."  —  Longfellow. 


IF  any  one  of  the  seaboiird  town.s  tlirou<,'li  which  we  have  lately  pa.ssed  would 
re(][uire  a  volume  to  do  it  justice,  Portland  would  be  worth  two,  at  least. 

This  is  a  city  set  on  a  hill.  Nature  has  thus  furnished  the  pedestal  on 
whieh  the  tall  steei)les  rise  \\  ith  monumental  effect.  As  it  is  but  four  miles 
from  the  open  ocean  up  to  the  wharves,  one  has  no  sooner  entered  the  shiji 
channel  than  he  sees  the  city  spires  sjn"in<;inj;  up  in  the  distance. 

Thrown  off  the  scmthern  c(n-ner  of  Caseo  Bay,  the  hif^h  ridge  on  which 
Portland'  is  built  just  escaped  becoming  one  of  that  magnificent  archiiielago 
over  which  the  city  presides  like  a  goddess  of  the  sea,  with  her  obsequious 
vassals  clustered  about  her  feet. 

As  we  look  up  at  it  from  the  harbor,  this  long  peninsida,  or  ridge,  takes  the 
form  of  a  saddle,  with  the  business  jjortion  in  the  scat,  and  the  residences  mostly 
groui)e(l  about  the  high  bluffs  rising  at  the  o])posite  extremities.  Wharves, 
warehouses,  and  shipping  mcmopolize,  of  course,  the  extensive  water-front;  but 
the  real  heart  of  the  city  seems  to  beat  high  up  on  the  ridge,  among  its  ste(>ples, 
while  its  working  hands  are  plunged  deep  down  into  the  waters  of  the  bay. 
There  is  something  aliout  it,  too,  that  recalls  Quelx'c.  in  streets  climbing  up  the 
face  of  steep  declivities,  and  flights  of  stairs  connecting  what  seems  to  us  like 
an  upper  and  lower  town. 

Of  the  two  high  bluffs  just  mentioned,  IVEunjoy  Hill,  at  the  right,  exhibits 
a  wooden  signal  tower,  reminiscent  of  the  big  ships  that  once  sailed  to  every 
port  and  clinus  while  IJramhall's,  at  the  left,  is  fringed  about  with  a  grove  of 
evergreens,  reminisctent  of  the  vanished  forest. 

The  greatest  seaport  in  the  world  could  not  have  a  more  splendid  or  more 
im])osing  approach.  And  the  history  of  this  (quarter  of  New  England  could 
hardly  be  written,  that  did  not  make  large  mention  of  that  steeple-crowned 
ridge. 

lUit  let  us  take  a  look  at  the  city  itself,  as  it  appears  in.  its  every -day 

working  dress.     (Jne  sees  at  a  glance  that  nature  has  more  than  done  her  part 

toward  raising  Portland  to  the  front  rank  of  maritime  ports.     We  expect  to 

read  the  story  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  on  the  fronts  of  the  buildings, 

the  faces  of  the  ])eople  we  meet,  or  if  not  there,  perhaps  on  the  tablets  in  the 

ancient  cemeteries. 

160 


1 

ii 


!  : 


ir.j 


TIIK    I'lNK-TUKK   COAST. 


rorthiud  is  ('crtainly  the  jjirttit'st  littU'  city  imt  oi  doors.  Every  iiiiiii, 
woiuim,  iiiul  child  hjis  an  inalit'iuihU'  freehohl  in  piirt'  air,  jjrciicroiis  sunshine, 
and  tlie  most  ex(iuisitt' of  .sea-scapes.  Our  ^Mcat  poet,  Lon,i,'ft'llo\v,  has  touched 
thisantl  that  spot  witli  a  h)vin,t;  hand  and  endearing;  chanu.  It  is  he  wlio  has 
tohl  us  that  the  poets  arc  the  best  travelling;  companions.  Let  us  then  take 
him  at  his  word,  in  this  his  own  native  city.  We  have  no  sooner  reaclied  the 
brow  of  lirandiall's  Hill  than  deep  down  l)eneath  we  see  the  shadowy  crown 

••(If  ilif  (lark  ami  liauiitiMl  wood," 

where  the  boy  Lonj,'fellow  roamed  and  mused. 

Indeed,  at  almost  every  turn,  the  stran<;er  is  reminded  that  Lonj^fellow  was 
born  here.  In  the  most  aristocratic  (juarter  a  stat\U'  has  l)een  raised  to  his 
memory.     Tlu'  artist,  l\Ir.  Franklin  Simmons,  who  is  also  "native  here  and  to 

the  manner  born."  has 
represented  the  poet 
seated  in  his  chair,  with 
head  slij.,ditly  drooped 
forward  on  his  breast. 
The  work  L^ives  us  Loii<,'- 
b'llow  all  eomplet*' ;  tlu' 
mt'tlitative  pose  of  the 
head,  his  thoujj;htful 
brow,  his  ])ensive  look, 
and  even  his  half-sad 
smile  of  later  years  — tlu^ 
^•eai's  of  his  ••  Lost 
Youth,"  i)erehance  —  are 
all  there.  It  is  the  very 
man. 

I    hapiiened     to     be 
standing,'  by,  amonj,'  the 
crowd,  on  the  day  when 
this  statue  was  pulilicly 
unveiled.     As  tlu;  white 
poveriuij;    was    bein<f    re- 
nntved,      disclosing;    the 
noble  and  dii^nitii'd  feat- 
ures to  view,  a  well-dressed  woman  at  my  elbow  remarked  to  her  neiLjhbor, 
••  Why,  he  must  have  been  a  dark-complected  man ! ''     The  statue  itself,  it  is 
perhaps  needless  to  add,  is  of  a  dark  bronze. 

Uefore  takiui;  many  sti'ps  in  I'ortland  it  is  necessary,  first  of  all,  to  point 
out  one  or  two  thing.s,  even  to  the  casual  visitor.  In  the  first  place,  lu'  tinds 
a  new  city  when  he  had  expected,  if  not  hoiied.  to  find  an  old  (me.  Then,  aijain, 
there  is  a  marked  discrepancy  in  the  looks  of  the  west  end  of  the  town,  as 


I.OMilKI.I.OW    STATIK. 


!1 


^lii 


I 

1  ■M 


r  "»■ 


I      ! 


A   DAY   IX   I'OUTLANl). 


i; 


M 


companMl  with  all  the  n-st.  In  one  part,  the  incllowiii'ss  that  comes  with  a^n- 
and  use  takt's  us  hark  thnm^'h  many  ^'fiu-iatidus  ot  hiiildcrs,  and  has  mui-h 
individual  cliaractfr  alMiut  it;  in  th«>  other,  the  uiimistakal)le  Htamp  of  lU'wnesH 
is  everywhere.  There  should  Im*,  he  thinks,  anion};  the  l)uildings  ol'  so  old  a 
place  many  interestinj;  memorials  of  the  past. 

On  the  Ith  of  July,  ISCilJ,  the  most  destructive  conHa),'ration  rmr  country 
had  ever  known  —  that  which  tlesolatcd  >iew  York  in  iSo.")  aloni'  excepted  — 
laid  Hfteen  hinidrcii  l)uildin}{s  in  ashes,  and  turned  half  the  population  into  the 
streets.  A  hoy's  squib,  cande.ssly  tossed  among  sonn*  shavings,  had  undone  the 
work  of  fifty  years  in  a  few  hours.  The  day  of  rejoicing  was  thus  turned  into 
one  of  mourning,  whih'  men  looked  on  to  see  the  gradual  accumulation.s  <d"  a 
lifetime  vanishing  U-fore  their  eyes  in  smoke  and  flame.  Everything  in  I'ort- 
land  naturally  dates  from  this  lire,  the  limits  of  which  may  lie  easily  traced, 
like  the  crjick  in  old  china,  wherever  the  new  city  joins  the  old. 

Previous  to  this  event  Portland  was  more  noted  for  tine  trees  than  for  fine 
huildings;  hut  when  it  rose  from  its  ashes,  it  was  really  more  of  a  city  and 
less  like  a  large  country  town.  It  was  no  more  like  what  it  had  been  tlian  a 
second  growth  is  like  the  first,  after  tire  has  gone  through  the  forest.  For  one 
thing,  the  streets  were  nuich  better  built,  and  thus  a  new  era  in  architecture 
was  begun;  but  where  were  the  lx*autiful  shade-trees  which  had  once  imparted 
to  them  a  beauty  and  charm  not  to  be  made  good  with  brick,  iron,  or  stone? 
All  gone  in  the  tornado  of  tlanu*  that  mowed  its  way  through  the  doomed  city 
unchecked.  Some  had  been  growing  so  long  as  to  be  reckoned  among  tin*  nio.st 
ancient  landmarks.  In  their  loss,  Portland's  most  distinctive  feature  was  (piite 
eflectually  blotted  out,  and  the  cherished  name  of  Forest  City — so  long  the 
pride  and  boast  of  every  citizen,  and  which  every  one  found  so  apiiropriate  — 
hail  lost  its  significance. 

A  most  excellent  reason  therefore  exists  why  the  city  seal  should  show  a 
pluenix  rising  from  its  ashes,  and  should  bear  the  very  suggestive  motto  of 
"  ItcHurrjam." 

I  spent  part  of  an  afternoon  in  loitering  about  l^ramhall's  Ilill,-'  which  finely 
overh)oks  the  land-approaches  to  Portland,  even  as  far  as  the  White  Mountains. 
Those  noble  jieaks  are  gramlly  presented  hero  across  sixty  miles  of  low  country, 
^luch  of  the  ground  is  already  occupied  by  costly  rcsitU'Uces,  so  distinguishing 
it  from  Munjoy's  Jlill.  at  the  other  end  of  the  city,  where  the  housi's  are  of  a 
more  modest  construction. 

While  he  was  al>out  it,  Bishop  lierkely  might  just  as  well  liave  laid  tlown 
the  incontestable  axiom,  that  westward  the  course  of  fashion  takes  its  way. 
For  a  long  time,  liramhall's  Hill  .seemed  definitely  consigned  to  the  limbo  of 
waste-places,  or  at  lea.st  to  no  better  use  than  for  a  graveyard,  pitched  at  the 
very  edge  of  the  bluff,  and  destitute  of  every  species  of  adonunent.  The 
improvements  we  now  see  on  ever}'  hand  are  due  to  the  energy  and  foresight 
of  the  late  John  B.  Brown,  whose  charming  villa  and  grounds  form  a  sort  of 
centre-piece  to  the  circle  of  fine  houses  grouped  about  it. 


( • 


I 


I 


ll 


,   :    ' 


■I 


158 


riii';  i'ini:-thi:e  coast. 


I  have  otten  renuirked  the  ix'ciiliarity,  not  confined,  however,  to  New  Eng- 
land towns  by  any  means,  that  when  you  are  seen  to  be  a  stran<,'cr.  you  aiv  at 
once  shown  the  residence  of  the  nuui  wlio  cannot  spend  the  interest  of  his  money. 
On  the  other  hand,  every  visitor  to  I'ortlaud.  wlio  lias  an  hour  to  spare,  first 
asks  liis  way  to  the  house  where  LouiffelUnv  was  born. 

A  more  attractive  aveiuu^  than  State  Street  would  be  hard  to  find  in  all 
New  l']i\,L,dand.  Other  cities,  it  is  trre,  have  had  such  streets,  but  they  are  now 
only  a  memory  and  a  regret.  And  the  least  we  can  .say  of  it  is,  that  if  w»'  were 
going  to  live  in  Portland,  we  should  want  to  live  in  State  Street.  Double  ranks 
of  mixgnificent  (dd  elms  stretch  out  their  canojty  of  leafage  across  the  broad 
highway,  which  is  shaded  with  a  cool,  soft  light.  Every  liouse  has  its  shade- 
trees  and  its  garden-plot  ;  every  citizen,  his  own  vine  and  tig-tree,  so  to  speak. 
Strips  of  well-kept  turf  border  the  sidewalks,  gratefully  relieving  the  dull  glare 
of  red  bri(!k  and  glitter  of  window-glass,  that  is  so  trying  to  the  eye.  As  for 
the  largi",  s([uare  houses  themselves,  —  with  their  black-painted  front  do(n\s,  big, 
brass  knockers,  and  fan-shaped  top-lights.  —  though  mostly  guiltless  of  all  archi- 
tectural adornment,  they  stand  well  ai)art,  thus  leaving  elbow-room  for  the 
cultivation  of  those  old-fashioned  gardens  beside  them,  where  we  may  see  fruits 
ripening  upon  the  trees,  and  flowers  blooming  along  the  gravelled  walks.  We 
can  well  imagiiu'  the  i)ride  which  filled  every  good  iti/.en's  breast  when  these 
houses  were  going  U]);  for  in  every  stick  and  stone  they  speak  of  substance, 
thrift,  and  comfortable  living. 

Then,  again,  there  is  certainly  an  atmosphere  of  old-fashioned  ease  and  solid 
comfort,  to  whi(di  this  hurrying  age  of  (mvs  is  a  stranger  :  of  (U'corous  retirenu-nt 
belonging  to  an  older  generation  than  ours,  and  to  it<  manners,  Avhich  we  do 
not  Hnd  at  all  disagreeable. 

State  Street  plainly  belongs  to  the  jieriod  when  fortunes  were  madi'  from 
ships  that  ploughed  the  main,  instead  of  from  the  smoky  manufactories  or 
railways  in  whiidi  Portland's  money  is  so  largely  invested  tcwlay.  .lohn  Neal 
lived  here  in  this  street,  and  .so  did  Senator  Fessenden, — 


'•  Tliaii  whom  a  liftlcr  .scnatur  ne'er  held 
The  lieliii.     .     .     . 
Whellicr  to  settle  peiiee  ortii  llllfuM 
Tlie  drift  ot  Imllnw  states,  hard  to  lie  spelltMl." 


In  the  short  ititervals  of  resjiite  from  political  or  professional  aetivity,  AFr, 
FesseiKh'u's  favorite  amusement  was  gardening,  which  I^ord  ISaeon.  in  one  of 
his  Essays,  e;;lls  the  purest  of  human  ])leasures.  Fessenden's  garden  forms  the 
them  "  for  sonu'  verses  from  the  i)ei)  of  Elizabeth  Akers  Allen. 

Congress  Street  is,  however,  Portland's  principal  thoroughfare.''  It  is  laid 
out  along  the  crest  of  the  ridge  throughout  its  whole  length.  At  either  end  are 
the  honu's  of  the  citizens,  while  the  central  ]tortion  is  devoted  to  business 
exehisively.     As  a  large   part  of  what   bi'longs   to  the   daily  life  of  I'ortlaud 


I     I 


A   DAY   IN   IM)UTLAXI). 


K51 


is  tninsacted  on  this  stroot,  a  walk  through  it  is  no  bail  epitome  ot  that  life, 
uvea  it'  wv  can  only  j^ivf  a  passing  glance  at  what  we  may  see. 

Fine  buildings  constantly  attract  our  attention  on  one  or  the  other  side. 
but  nothing  so  much  as  those  occasional  glimpses  of  the  beautiful  blue  sea, 
framed  in  between  the  dinunishing  walls  ol  brick  or  stone  that  open  to  the 
right  or  left  as  we  pass  by.  Among  the  more  recent  structures  is  that  little 
architectural  gem,  the  new  ])ul)lic  library,^  the  gift  of  Mr.  .J.  P.  Baxter  to 
the  city. 

On  arriving  near  tln' depression  which  we  have  calle(l  the  saddle,  Congress 
Street  throws  off  three  branches,  whicdi  now  penetrate  the  ohh'st  jjortion  of  the 
city,  as  the  Mississippi  does  its  delta.  The  point  of  junction,  or  divergence, 
is  called  ^larkct  S(piare,'' iiotwithstantling  its  triangular  shape,  and  is  ]ierha]»s 
the  busiest  single  spot  of  ground  the  city  (^an  show,  surrounded  as  it  is  by 
shops  and  hot(ds,  gathering  in  as  it  does  all  the  travel  tlowing  from  so  many 
different  directions  to  a  common  centre. 

Vet  we  can  only  stojt  long  enough 
to  fix  in  our  memory  one  or  two  build- 
ings which  the  great  fire  so  ca]>riciously 
sjjared,  and  in  which  men  having  a 
national  reputation  have  lived. 

Tlu!  hotel  now  known  as  the  Preble 
House,  overlooking  this  s(piare,  had  its 
origin  in  the  mansion  that  Commodore 
Edward  I'reble.'"' of  IN'Volutionary  fame, 
built  for  himself  as  a  retreat  for  his  de- 
clining days,  though  the  original  house 
has  well-nigh  disappeared  from  view 
in  siU'cessive  additions,  liefore  these 
changt's  took  jdace,  .lohn  Xeal  says  it 
stood  alone,  fnmting  I'reble  Street,  with 
a  large  yard  on  Congress  Street,  and  a 

garden  full  of  trees  running  far  »lown  behind  it.  The  original  front  was 
scarcely  a  third  part  of  what  we  now  see,  it  having  be<Mi  extended  on  both  sides 
as  w»dl  as  in  the  rear.  The  lious*'  was  never  occupied  by  the  blutf  old  ('((lu- 
modore,  though  l>uilt  for  him.  He  died  in  1S(>7,  at  just  about  the  time  that  his 
new  house  was  ready  to  receive  him  iis  its  master. 

Next  above  the  Preble  Hou.se,  a  little  back  from  the  street,  stands  an  old. 
thr«'e-story  brick,  of  very  mo»h'st,  not  to  say  homely,  exterior.  This,  we  are 
told,  is  the  first  brick  house  ever  built  in  Portland,  and  its  api»earance  certaiidy 
bears  out  the  assertion.  Some  fin*'  old  elms,  growing  at  the  sidewalk,  cast  long 
shadows  over  the  paved  courtyard  within,  and  the  mansion  itself  is  furth'-r 
darkened  by  the  walls  of  the  adjoining  b\iildings,  which  shoot  up  high  above  it 
on  either  siih*,  thus  leaving  oidy  a  sjjace  of  blue  sky  at  the  very  top.  in  truth, 
the  old  homestead  seems  to  have  drawn  back   from  the  noise  and  bustU'  of  the 


THE    <»NK-IIOXS    HUAY. 


i(;2 


Tin:    I'IN'K-THEE   COAST. 


stivi't,  witliin  tlu'  sliiulow  of  its  iispiriiij,'  m'i},'hl»nis,  iis  if  consciuus  that  it  did 
nut  beloiif^f  to  this  lu'w  and  crowdin",'  i^'cncration. 

General  l'('h'«,' Wadswortli,"  a  sohlitT  of  tho  Kevohition,  whose  escape  from 
Castine  was  as  excitin}^  an  advt'ntnrc  as  anything,'  to  lie  found  in  ronianee, 
bt'j,'an  tliis  liouse  in  ITS").     Tt  had  Imt  two  stories  when  completed,  but  Stephen 


I'l  iii.ir  i.iiiiuiiv.  roitn.AM). 


Lonj,'fellow,  father  of  the  juM't,  who  married  Zilpah,  the  j,'enerars  dan^diter, 
i-nlar-^ed  it  liy  the  addition  of  another  story,  when  the  general  mov«'d  out  and 
he  luovi'd  in.  brin^jinj?  with  him  the  boy  Ht'nry  AVadsworth,  who  had  thus  good 
Revolutionary  blood  in  his  veins,  and  was  jmmd  of  it,  too. 

Mr.  Longfellow  once  describcvl  to  me  his  experience  of  travel  between  Port- 
land and  Boston,  going  back  to  the  time  when  the  old-fashioned  stage-coach  was 


A   DAY    IN    I'OHTLAXD. 


1G3 


the  only  means  of  conveyance  between  the  two  cities  by  hind.  iJy  starting  at 
three  o'chtck  in  the  morning,  (jne  migiit  reach  IJoston  hite  at  night  un  the  same 
(hiy.  Hut  this  was  too  fast  for  ordinary  traveHers,  who  preferred  taking  the 
" ae('ommo(hition,"'  which  math'  the  trip  in  two  ihiys.  In  winter  it  was  no 
h();i(hiy  journey,  the  h'ss  so  as  the  si(h's  of  tlie  aHeged  stage  were  only  curtains 
of  common  hocking,  buttoned  down  to  keep  the  weather  out.  The  poet  .said, 
with  a  shiver  that  the  recollection  called  up,  that  he  "  usually  patronized  the 


'-^' 


^^r:2^-  -^^^^5. 


LONOFEM.«»\V     \NI>    III**    IIf)MK. 


accommodation,  because  it  gave  him  a  night's  rest  at  Freeman's  tavern,  at  Cape 
Ni'ddock." 

An<tther  gifted  poet,  in  another  land,  has  left  on  record  his  views  with 
respect  to  this  now  anti(iuated  mode  of  travel,  from  whicli  it  will  be  seen  how 
railways  have  reduced  travellers  to  compulsory  tacitiirnity.  Stmthey  remarks 
in  one  of  his  letters  that  ''  it  is  only  in  a  stage-coach  that  I  am  on  an  eipial 
footing  with  my  com])ani(ms,  and  it  is  there  that  I  talk  the  most  and  have  them 
in  the  best  humor  with  me." 


I'  m 


'    ■'<1 


i  i 
I  i. 


ifr 


1(14 


THE   PIXK-THEE   CT)AST. 


Mi: 


WAU8WORTH. 


Wliilt'  in  the  vicinity  it  wouM  he  our  own  loss  not  to  drop  into  the  studio 

of  Mr.  Hurry  Brown,  who,  as  the  ^^jthusiiistic  h)vt'r  of  the  scenery  of  this  his 

native  city,  and   its  truest   interpreter  withah  has   (h)ne  so  much  to  make  it 

known  to  th(»  great  worhl  of  art.     A  visit  to  his  studio  is  almost  as  good  as  a 

summer  vacation. 

A  most  interesting  hour  may  he  spent  among  tlu*  monuments  in  the  Eastern 

Cemetery,  the  ohlest  in   the  town.     The  earliest   stones  must  he   sought    for 

among  th;'  rank  grass  of  the  southeast  corner. 
We  almost  expect  to  see  Old  ^lortality  start 
U})  from  among  the  head-stones  here.  And 
one  can  almost  trace  successive  stages  of  the 
town's  growth  in  the  changing  character  of 
these  nu'morials.  as  of  enumcipation  from  the 
thrahh<m  of  old  ideas,  associating  death  with 
all  that  was  repulsive  or  hideous  in  the  mort- 
uary .symhols. 

Commo(h)re  Edward  I'rehle  is  huried  in 
this  yard ;  gallant  Harry  Wadsworth,  too, 
who  was  hlown  up  at  Trii»oli,  has  his  me- 
morial ;  so  also  has  Parson  Smith/  whose 
'•  Journal  *'  is  the  source  of  so  much  of  what 
is   kiK^wn  ahout  the   early  life   of    I'ortland. 

But  there  is  indul)itahle  evidence  showing  that  toward  non«'  of  these  do  the  feet 

of  most  visitors  turn.     The  ground  ahout  the  graves  oi  the  three  naval  heroes, 

liurrows,  lUythe,  and  Waters,  is  well  trodden   down. 

saying   that  Longfellow's  admirable  comnu'm- 

orative   lines   have  hrought  thousands   to   the 

spot  who  woidd  otherwise  never  have  known 

of  the  gallantry  of  the.se  nuMi.    It  is  hut  a  short 

way  down  the  hillside  to  the  old,  sipiare,  wooden 

house  in  which  the  poet  was  horn,  —  indeed,  the 

house  can  he  (piite  plainly  seen  from  the  ceme- 
tery,—  so    we  can  very  well  helicve  that  the 

terrihle  sea-tight  which  set  thi;  wh.de  town  wild 

with  excitement,  and  the  solemn  internuMit  of 

its   victims   which   followed,   hdt  an   inchdihle 

impression  on  the  sensitive  lad's  memory,  which 

he  has  conveyed  to  us  in  that  simple  and  toucli- 

iug  langiiage  of  which  he  was  the  master.     l>nr- 

rows  was  only  twenty-eight,  Blythe  twenty-iune,  Waters  eighteen.     That  tells 

where  the  young  men  were  in  that  war. 

It  was  plca.sant  to  note  liow   all  had  heen  decorated  alike  with  flags  and 

evergreens.     Toor  Blythe  could  not  have  Iwen  more  honored  among  his  own 

kindred. 


We   risk  nothing   in 


TVNC 


A    DAY    IN    POHTLAXI). 


1G5 


"Mad  Jack"  IVrcival,  of  tlic  old  navy,  used  to  say  that  the  Boxer  and 
Enterjirisc  fouglit  the  only  equal  battle  which  \vc  won  durin},'  that  war.  At 
any  rate,  the  victory  was  dearly  l)()Uj:fht.  Y'et  the  inscription  to  Uurrows  is  a  sur- 
prising commentary  to  the  jtatriotism  of  the  time.  It  reads  that  his  monumeut 
was  erected  by  ''a  passing  strangt-r." 

Rear  Admiral  .lames  Alden  has  a  tine  monument  in  this  ground,  lie  was  a 
man  after  Karragut's  own  heart,  a  sailor  cast  in  the  same  luMoic  mould  as  those 
valiant  old  sea-<logs.  ll\dl,  J)ccatur,  Stewart,  who  believed  that  victories  were 
oidy  to  be  won  by  tighting,  and  to  whom  the  smell  of  powder  was  like  incense 
to  the  devotee. 

It  is  not  much  farther  to  Munjoy  Jlill,  on  which  the  observatory  stands 
that  we  tnok  note  of  from  the  harl)or.  Similarly  to  IJrandiall.  this  nanu'  comes 
from  a  settler  of  the  early  day,  who,  it  is  said,  built  on  or  near  this  hill  as  early 
as  1(>()1.     The  city  of 


tents  pitched  on  the 
greensward  here,  for 
the  acconnnodation  of 
those  whom  the  great 
fire  had  rendered 
homeless,  was  a  most 
pictures(pie  and  sug- 
gestive siifht.     At  the 


same  tinu»  the  (dd 
City  Hall,  since  de- 
molished to  make 
room  for  the  soldiers' 
m  o  n  \i  m  e  n  t.  was 
turned  into  a  depot 
for  feeding  these  poor 
ju'ojde,  and  I  renu'm- 
ber  seeing  them  pass- 
ing to  and  fro  between 
camp  and  commis- 
sariat, a  few  days  sub- 
seciuent  to  the  fire, 
each  carrying  the  jxu'tion  of  food  dealt  out  to  him  for  the  subsistence  of  liimself 
or  family.     It  was  a  scene  from  the  war  over  again. 

Local  chronicles  tell  of  various  'occurrences,  more  or  less  interesting,  asso- 
ciated with  this  commanding  s])ot  of  ground,  which,  in  some  sort,  dominates  the 
history  of  Portland  as  it  thies  crowding  city,  gay  harbor,  and  island-studded 
bay.  There  is  one  among  the  rest  that  is  deserving  of  more  than  a  pass- 
ing word. 

During  the  exciting  period  that  followed  close  upon  the  Battle  of  Lexington, 
His  Majesty's  ship  C«»cm»a',  Captain  Henry  Mowatt,  commander,  was  statiiuied 


oi,n  t'oriiT-iiorsK,  Hmxi.ANn. 


k;*; 


TlIK    riNK-THKK   COAST. 


ill  this  port  to  keep  an  cy*'  on  the  patriots,  wliilc  without  his  knowing  it,  it 
st't'iiis  thi'y  were  kt'cpiiig  two  on  liiiii. 

It  seems,  also,  that  a  certain  ("oUmel  Samuel  Thompson,  of  (ireor<,'etown, 
uiKh'rstood  that  with  the  shechlini,'  of  Ithiod  war  had  actually  l»ej,Miii.  This  very 
niatter-ol'-fact  person  appears,  moreover,  to  have  somehow  got  the  notion  in  his 
head  that  the  merchants  of  Kaluionth,  as  Portland  was  then  c.'illed,  among 
whom  were  some  avowed  Tories,  wi-re  in  no  haste  to  commit  themselves  to  the 
patriot  side  in  its  hour  of  ])eril.  further  than  l»y  way  id'  em])ty  professions.  At 
any  rate,  Ctdouel  Thompson  was  himself  a  man  (d'  settled  convictions.  So 
getting  together  some  sixty  of  his  neighliors,  who  thought  with  him  that  the 
presence  of  the  C((ii<'('<nix  was  an  insult,  and  that  a  good  lilow  struck  here 
would  strengthen  tin-  hands  of  their  friends  everywhere,  Thompson  landed 
with  his  men  one  night  on  this  very  hill,  determined  either  to  take  the  ship  or 
drive  her  out  <d'  the  harbor.     And  here  they  lay  hid  till  the  next  day  at  noon. 

.\t  this  hour  Captain  Mowatt,  with  his  surgeim,  was  taking  an  airing  upon 
this  hill,  wishing  that  he  might  lay  hands  u]>oii  some  r»'l»el  to  make  an  example 
(d',  when  Thompson's  men  suddenly  surrounded  them  and  ma(h'  them  prisoners. 
.\s  soon  as  the  otlieer  hdt  in  (diarge  of  the  Cdiirt'anx  heard  of  it.  he  put  springs 
on  his  cable,  piped  to  (juarters,  and  swore  a  terrible  oath  that  he  would  knock 
the  wlude  internal  rebel  crew  into  a  i-ocked  hat  unless  the  ])ri.soners  were  set 
at  liberty  by  a  given  hour. 

It  may  well  be  su]»poscd  that  this  threat  threw  the  town  into  a  ferment. 
Hut  when  the  CancedKX  iired  two  lilaiik  cartridges  by  way  of  emphasizing  it, 
the  terrified  inhabitants  cither  hid  themselves  in  their  c(dlars,  or  ran  away  out 
of  the  town  to  escai)e  the  coming  bombardment.     Now  came  some  (d'  the  itrin- 


cipal  inhabitants,  the  men  of  sid)stanc«'  who  are  always  for  i)eaee  at  any  price, 
entreating  Thom])son  to  spare  them  so  dreadful  a  calamity  by  letting  Mowatt 
go.  The  bold  Thomjison  at  first  treated  their  prayers  witli  scorn,  but  he  finally 
gave  his  consent  to  Mowatt's  returning  on  board  his  ship  upon  pledging  his 
word  of  hoiKU-  to  give  himstdf  up  the  next  day.  Alowatt  gave  the  reipiircd 
ph'dge.  and  went  off  unimdested  to  his  ship;  Imt  when  the  time  came  to  redeem 
his  plighted  word,  he  coolly  forfeited  it  under  the  clumsy  pretext  that  no  prom- 
ises were  to  be  kept  with  rebels  and  traitors. 

Though  (dieated  of  his  prey.  Thompson  pr<jceeded  to  indemnify  himself  i)y 
levying  contributions  upon  some  of  tlie  more  obnoxious  Tories  of  the  tctwn. 
Mis  conduct  was  highly  resented  on  all  sides,  and  an  appeal  taken  to  the 
colonial  Congress,  by  whom  Thomp.son's  acts  were  fully  approved  as  being 
"  friendly  to  his  country  and  the  cause  of  liberty." 

This  too  brief  ridation  is  only  the  preambhf  to  what  afterwards  oecurred. 
It  seems  that  ^lowatt's  sidfdove  had  received  a  mortal  thrust,  which  coidd  be 
healeil  ill  only  one  way.  A  captain  in  His  ^lajesty's  service  had  b»'en  insulted 
and  i..»  blood  shed.  He  obtained  p»'rmission  from  the  admiral  on  the  station  to 
take  summary  revenge.  So  in  October  the  .slippery  ^lowatt  again  anchored  off 
the  town  with  three  ships  l)esides  his  own.     He  generously  gave  the  iiihabi- 


A    DAY    IN    I'OUTLANI). 


167 


tantH  two  lioiirs  in  which  to  leave  it,  tliouj^h  he  was  imhiced  to  extend  the 

tiiiii'  to  iiiin'  o'('lo(  k  in  tht-  nioriiinf^  of  the  l<Sth.  when  all  tin-  sliijis  opcinMl  flic 
with  .shot  and  shell,  and  liom  that  )<our  till  darkness  shnt  in,  the  hondtanlnient 


.  i' 


Ui. 


M 


;i*!i 


'■1; 


VIKWx    IN    AM»    AHorM)    I'(>HTf.ANI>. 


"til 
•HI 


went  on  withont  intermission.  At  the  same  time  the  town  was  set  on  tire  l»v 
his  orders,  so  that  the  flames  might  finish  what  the  hondtardnient  had  .si)ared. 
My  this  atroeious  act,  against  nn  undefended  plaee,  about  four  hundred  build- 
ings were  destroyed;   and  Captain   ^Fowatt's  wounded  lionor.  which  he  had 


KiH 


THK    riNK-'I'HKK  COAST. 


forfcitod  to  his  homespun  ciiptors  without  ii  twiui,'*'.  wus  thjTchy  most  houitrahly 
iil>l»t'a.se(l. 

()mi  more  cpisoih-  of  th(>  times  when  iicigliljor's  hand  was  raised  af,'aiiist 
neiKlihor  will  pfrhaijs  serve  to  round  out  the  story  of  this  eventful  period. 
"William  Tyu},','''  \n\i\i  sheriff  of  the  county,  was  a  rank  Tory.  One  day,  while 
political  animosities  wen;  runniuf^  high,  he  and  (Jeneral  I'rehle  met  in  King 
Street.  Hot  words  ])assed  between  them.  The  choleric  Tyng  called  the 
general  an  old  fool.  "  Kc^pcat  those  words,"  cried  the  incensed  l)rigadier,  "and 
I  will  knock  yon  down!"  Tyng  thereupon  whipped  out  his  rapier.  ;iiid 
threatened  to  run  the  general  through;  but  before  he  could  make  a  pass  the 
indignant  veteran  thivw  himself  upon  '  "/ng,  seizecl  him  by  the  collar,  and  shtxtk 
him  until  the  bystanders  parted  tl  The  affair  terminated  without  swiird 

thrusts,  however,  upon  Tyng's  askii/  irate  old  general's  jtanh)!!. 

When  tlu?  royal  troops  entered  iS^ew  York,  Tyng  went  with  them.  I'pon 
hearing  that  a  son  of  Ids  late  antagonist  was  then  a  prisoner,  coidined  on  board 
the  Jersey  Prison  Ship,  of  fatal  nu'uiory,  Tyng  at  once  sought  him  out.  The 
yoinig  man  was  found  to  be  suffering  from  a  dangerous  illness,  which,  in  that 
"Hoating  hell,"  meant  nothing  less  than  another  victiiu  or  another  murder. 
The  refugee  Royalist,  like  the  noble  man  he  was,  procured  the  eai)tive's  ndease, 
took  him  to  his  own  house,  nursed  him  through  his  sickness,  and  finally 
restored  him  to  his  family  and  friends,  who  already  mourned  him  as  dead. 
That  young  officer  s»d)se(piently  becanu'  the  famous  Commodore  Preble. 

After  ])assing  a  litth^  beyond  the  observatory,  whieh  looks  (piite  like  iin 
ancient  windmill  Avithout  arms,  and  whieh  every  stranger  in  I'ortland  ascends, 
the  bay  and  bay  shore  (piiekly  ap]>ear  before  us.  Here,  on  the  high  bluff"  rising 
at  the  shore,  stands  a  neat  granite  shaft  erecited  to  the  memory  of  (Jeorge 
Cleeves,  the  founder  of  I'ortland.  The  four  sides  of  the  ba.se  contain  the  four 
names  by  whieh  the  peninsula  has  been  known  ;  the  shaft  itself  is  inscril)e(l 
with  the  leading  events  in  the  life  of  (.'leeves.  Out  at  the  left  are  seen  Mack- 
worth's,  or  Mackay's,  I.sliind  and  Point,"'  the  lumie  of  ca  settler  (!ontemporarv 
with  Cleeves,  and  somewhat  nearer  the  United  States  Marine  Hospital  building 
at  Martin's  Point. 

Still  hugging  the  shore,  the  eye  now  roves  along  Falmouth  Foreside,  a 
favorite  drive  out  of  Portland,  as  the  road  commands  a  view  of  the  bay  for 
nules  anmnd.  It  is  historic  ground,  too.  Here  was  the  site  of  New  Casco 
Fort,"  built  after  the  destruction  of  Fort  Loyal  in  KJSXl,  to  whi(di  we  shall 
presently  refer.  .Fust  off'  this  shore  li«>s  Clapboard  Island,  the  boundary  once 
set  up  by  Massa(duisetts  as  her  rightful  charter  limit. 

aMunjoy  Hill  is  to  I'ortland  what  the  citadel  is  to  Quebec.  —  the  best  of  all 
positions  for  overlooking  its  incomparable  bay. 

Stret(diing  out  before  us  in  the  sun  is  the  long  reach  of  open  water,  begin- 
ning down  at  our  feet  and  extending  up  between  Mackworth's  and  Hog  Island ; 
farthei-  and  farther  on,  between  Great  Cheheague  and  Cousins'  Island;  still 
farther  to  the  neighborhood  of  Harpswell,  where  the  dry  land  grows  dim  and 


A    DAY    IN    IM  UHLAN  I). 


160 


wjitcrv,  iis  if  ii  wft  linisli  lunl  Ih-cii  druwii  alon^'  the  hori/on,  iuul  tlu'  eye  then 
t'iiils  us.  Tliiit  linid  i»n's»'iitiii>^  :iii  iinlmikt'ii  fnmt  at  <mr  riKl't»  which  \\v  at 
first  take  to  li«'  tlu;  main,  is  nothing  hut  a  chain  of  ovcrhippin^,'  ishiiwls,  dividinj,' 
the  waters  of  tho  hay  nearly  in  two;  nor  do  we  perceive  our  error  until  from 
soine  higher  point  the  whole  matchless  archipelaijo  arran^'es  itself,  like  some 
leviathan  Heet,  in  a  series  of  systematic  K''<»'ip>"rC^'  ^''•i*'  ni'*'">  to  have  sonit^  time 
Itelon^'ed  to  the  land,  althou^jh  now  claimed  by  the  sea.  We  can  hardly  con- 
ceive of  forces  adetpiat«'  to  this  residt. 

From  Mnnjoy  we  look  down  into  Fort  (Jorj^'es,  and  ont  to  sea  throu^di  White 
Head  passage,  seeing  that  renowned  headland  ([uite  plainly.  We  have  now  had 
an  opiiort\inity  of  getting  pretty  well  actpiainted  with  the  western  approaches 
to  Casco  Hay. 

The  people  of  rort'-ind  are  certainly  favored  .above  most  dwellers  in  cities, 
in  having  a  jjerpetual  least  of  s<!enie  beauty  so  lavishly  spn^ad  out  at  their  very 
doors, — a  feast  end)racing  the  choicest  examples  of  sea,  shore,  and  mountain, 
effectively  combined  and  contrasted,  and  where,  indeed,  nature  seems  always 
keeping  open  house.  It  should  be,  we  think,  a  better  ednc.ition  f(»r  the  masses 
than  either  art  galleries,  statiuiry,  or  schools,  since  many  a  man  has  tVlt  his 
first  emotion  for  nature  — his  love  at  fir.st  sight —  while  standing  on  some  such 
spot  as  Munjoy. 

Why,  only  to  see  ^Fount  Washington,  as  I  liave  seen  it  from  this  spot  on  a 
clear  wint(!r's  day,  his  robe  of  snow  faintly  touched  by  .soft,  rose-tinted  shad- 
ows, that  came  and  went  like  the  blush  on  a  nniiden's  cheek,  with  a  sky  as  bbie 
as  tunpioise  behind  him.  and  the  bright  sun  shining  full  on  his  gleaming  breast, 
woidd  be  worth  a  day's  journey  to  any  man! 

We  are  still  loitering  in  that  j)art  of  ancient  Falmouth  to  which  tho 
pioneers,  undaunted  by  rejM'ated  massacres,  clung  so  stubbornly.  Old  traditions 
chister  thick  around  it.  rnderneath  this  lu'ight,  near  the  corner  of  Fore  and 
Ilanco(!k  .streets,  George  (.'leeves  built  his  solitary  cabin,  —  the  first  known  to 
have  been  erected  on  the  peninstUa  by  a  white  man.  Hard  by,  at  the  foot  of 
India  Street,  on  the  ju-emises  now  occupied  by  the  (Jrand  Trunk  llailway, 
Fort  Loyal  was  rai.sed  as  a  rallying  ])oint  for  the  settlers  who  had  been  driven 
away  at  the  sacking  of  Fahnouth  in  1(»7(),  and  who  were  yet  again  scattered 
by  death  or  (captivity,  when  Portmmf,  Castine,  Hertel,  and  their  confederate 
butchers  overcame  the  fort  in  May,  1(51)0,  after  it  had  held  out  bravely  for  four 
terrible  days. 

This  forc(^  of  conrpur/t  dc  hoix  and  savages  had  been  led  to  the  attack  all  the 
way  from  (Juebec.  It  was,  at  least,  ji  strange  chajice  that  conducti'd  the  rail- 
way from  the  same  starting  point  to  the  same  spot  in  the  interests  of  )»eace. 

La  Hontan  extols  the  bravery  of  the  defenders.  He  also  i)raises  the 
determination  of  the  savages  wlio,  contrary  to  their  usual  custom,  fearlessly 
scaled  the  i)alisades.  Witlnnit  them,  he  says,  the  enterprise  nuist  certainly 
have  fallen  through.  Fort  and  village  were  given  uj)  to  the  flames.  The 
survive.^,  "ncluding  Captain  Davis,  were  marched  off  to  Canada. 


11 


iir 


I 


^i  1 
1)]  I 


I   I : 


170 


Tin:  imni;-tui:k  coast 


Thus  four  times  in  hor  liist'tiy  has  iVuthitid  JiiUcn  a  prey  to  the  fljuui's. 
At  the  eunier  of  Kore  and  Maneo(;k  streets  stands  the  house  in  whieh 
Tionf^fellow  first  drew  hreath.  In  the  jxtet's  lioyhood,  oidy  the  breadth  of  the 
rojid  s»'|i;ir!ited  the  house  from  thf  lieach.  The  hay  view  is  now  shut  out  l>y 
intfrveniii^;  liuiMini,'s.  'I'iiis  house  is  a  phiin,  box-like  strueture,  on  tlie  shady 
side  of  eighty,  I  shouhl  say.  (luite  likf  st)  many  yet  standing  about  in  odd 

corners,  yet  remark- 
ably suggestive  of  thi- 
fact  that  no  ilwtdling 
is  too  hundth*  for  a 
great  man  to  b«-  lM)rn  in 
it.  Indeed,  an  instruc- 
tive paralh'l  might  be 
drawn  between  the 
rather  honu-ly  edifice 
and  its  surrountlings, 
and  the  bron/.e  statue 
lattdy  rais«'d  to  the  poi't 
in  the  most  fashional)h> 
partof  the  town.  L(»ng- 
feUow's  early  home  be- 
longs to  the  period 
if':  ^^■yi(|j|]ll|i|j|||ll||l|I|^^  wh(>n  Portland  was  so 

JT'   ^^^^^^^^^^xBi^^^^^iiJii£'i''--^''*f^^  immersed     in     eom- 

■Wr  -   ^^^..iU-JlymmB^B^I^Sm^.'tr-^:.-,.^^  incrcial    j.ursuits,   that 

every  fitizen  wanted 
his  house  to  .stand  at 
the  very  edge  td'  the 
.shore.  It  was  evi(U'ntly 
the  case  with  Stephen  Lcmgfellow.  And  it  is,  pj^rhaps,  to  the  iinjjressions 
derivt'd  from  such  intimate  companionsldp  with  the  sea,  that  W(>  owe  thos«' 
(diarming  verses  about  it  from  tlie  jx-n  (d  his  more  famous  .son.  1  know  not 
why  it  should  be  so,  but  sonudiow  one  turns  away  from  this  house,  which  he 
has  so  nuufh  wished  to  see,  with  a  feeling  of  keen  disappointment. 

No  boy  who  luis  been  brought  up  in  a  sea[)ort  can  fail  to  appreciate  this 
touch  from  nicmorv  :  — 

•  1  ifiut'iiilicr  the  liliuk  wharves  aiul  tlic  slil)s. 

Ami  tlif  sca-tidi's  tosHiiij;  fret', 
AikI  tlu'  Spanish  sailors  witli  hcanU'il  lips. 
And  till'  Ix-aiity  ami  iiiysicry  of  tlu'  slui)s, 

Ami  tlu'  iiiaj;ii.'  of  tlu-  sea." 

I  am  not  yet  (dd  cncnigh  to  have  got  over  my  jjredilection  for  numsing  about 
the  wharves  of  ;i  strange  seaport,  and  seldom  fail  to  pay  them  a  visit.  Tho.se 
of  I'ortland  no  lunger  groan  under  the  weight  of  fat  puncheons  of  Santa  Cruz, 


I,ON*lKKI.I.OW's    ItlKTIIIM.ACE. 


A     DAY    IN    PMRTI.ANI). 


in 


or  (Mil  Januiica.  as  in  days  of  yor<>;  for  a  man  iiaincil  Xcal  Dow,  whost>  mansion 
stands  in  tln'  lii^jli  |»lar»'s  of  tli«'  city,  has  ilonc  for  Maine  what  Saint  I'atrirk, 
of  hl*>ss(>(l  memory,  <li<l  for  Ohl  Irfhmd  in  l)anishin^'  snakfs  from  all  ht-r 
borders. 

Siu-akiiif^  of  wharves  and  ships  reminds  one  of  the  very  darinj»  act  done  in 
this  liarltor,  almost  nnder  the  };uns  of  the  forts,  durin<^  the  dark  days  of  tlie 
j^reat  Oivil  War.  It  was  enou^di  to  have  made  those  ohl  warriors,  wlio  sh  ep  on 
yonder  hillsith*,  turn  over  in  their  f,'raves.  One  ni^dit,  in  the  year  lS<5.'t,  —  the 
biu„'.  'ar.  —  a  seliooner  stoh'  into  the  harbor,  iiiisiispeeteil  and  unrlKiUen^ed. 
It  w.  a  Confeth-rate  privateer  manned  l»y  a  erew  of  (hire-(h'vils.  Iler  eom- 
niaiider  hiid  her  ah»ni,'side  the  revenue  cutter,  ('nh'h  (JnHhimi,  without  awaken- 
inj;  so  mueli  as  a  suspicion  of  his  real  desi;,'iis.  So  the  cutter  was  taken  without 
tiring  a  shot.  In  the  mornin<;  the  cutter  was  miss«'d  from  her  anchora<;e,  and 
the  eause  j^ne.ssed.  .V  volunteer  for«'e  was  hurriedly  embarked  on  board  two 
merchant  steamers,  which  sti'amed  off  in  hot  chase  of  tlu^  [tiratieal  intruder. 
Slu'  was  found  becalmed  imdcr  the  (Jreen  Islands  in  the  bay.  SeeiiiLj  no  other 
tdiance  of  escape,  the  Confederate  captain  set  tire  to  the  cutter,  and  took  to  his 
boats.  They  were  stHJU  overtaken.  The  cutter,  wrapped  in  flames,  presently 
blew  up  with  a  tremendous  explosion,  and  the  dan;j;er  was  over,  but  the  frij^ht 
remained  for  many  a  day,  since  no  one  had  dreamed  of  such  a  thiiij;  as  possible 
here  in  New  Kuf^land.  though  Wadsworth  had  once  done  .something  tpiite  like 
it  at  Tripoli. 

This  was  but  a  prelude  to  a  series  of  depredations  in  our  Northern  waters 
during  which  the  ('onfe(h*ratecrui.ser,  7'i'f//»>/H».s.s»'«',  destroyed  no  less  than  twenty- 
five  vessels  in  one  tlay  on  the  coast  of  .Maine,  Her  commander  sardonically 
remarUeil  to  the  master  of  one  of  them,  that  it  was  his  purpose  "to  slacken 
up  the  ta)asting  trade,  so  that  Tncle  Ai»e  would  be  j;lad  to  make  peace." 


I 


1  I'ortliiMil :  refer  to  the  prpvimis  cliapter  fur  iinUeations  that  tlim  name  first  attaclitnl 
itself  to  the  ( 'ape  Kli/.alx-th  side — Imliaii  naiiic  .Maciii^oiuic.  Ciisco,  also  Imliaii.  a  ('i)rrii|>- 
tiua  (if  .\u('t*i-is('(i,  was  tiic  ail<>|ii«'<l  Kiii.'lisli  naiiii',  iml  only  for  the  sctticiiitiit  iicrc,  liut  for 
the  later  one  in  wliat  is  now  Faiiiioutii.     It  was  also  applied  to  the  whole  coiitimioiis  reirioii, 


lUi 


)re  or  less.     Tlu'  scttleiiitiiis  hi-rc  ami  at  Cajx'  KH/.alnth  were  iiicorporaled  as   Falmoiuli 


lU 


KI'iX.  In  I7S(!  that  part  known  as  Kaliiioiitli  Neck  was  separated  from  the  rest,  and  re-incor- 
porated wit:;  the  name  of  I'orlland.  old  Kalmouth  included  eii;lity  sipiare  miles  of  territory 
—  extending  from  the  Spiirwink  to  North  Kahnoiuh,  and  eiixht  miles  hack  into  the  countrA'. 
Christopher  I.evett  huilt  the  first  house,  not  on  the  maiidand.  hut  on  one  of  the  islands.  si:p- 
posed  lo  be  llous*-  Island.  This  l^-vet!  located  his  irrant  of  six  thousanil  acres  "in  this  l»,iy 
near  Cape  KlizalM'th,  and  Imilt  a  pMxl  house  .lad  fortified  well  on  an  island  lyin^  before  Ciis«'o 
liiver"  -S.  M  vvKitn  K.  Willis'  History  of  I'ortland  is  still  the  best.  I'arson  'riu^mas  Smith's 
.Jo\inial  is  it  quaint  and  n-adable  account  of  society,  life,  and  manners  in  the  la.st  century. 
John  N«'hI'«  o!T-hand  sketches,  •■  I'ortland  Illustrated,"  is  valuable  for  its  portraits.  William 
(Joold  has  written  some  rt'adal)le  rendniscenceH.  Elwell's  "Portland  and  Viciinty "  U  a 
.scholarly  and  appreciative  ^uide  ubuut  Portland. 


17L' 


TIIK   I'INK-ri{i:H  COAST. 


-  nraiiiliairs  Ilill,  so  callcfl  from  (Jcorjic  Draiiihall,  a  Hcttkir  <»f  KtKO,  wlm  was  killed  in 

tilt'  Jif,'iil  bi'lwi-eii  Major  rimrcii  and  liu'  Iiulians,  UiHli,  by  wiilcli  Casco  was  saved  for  tlie  tiiiu'. 

•'  t'oiijiress  Street,  formerly  ealled  Mack.     Tlie  three  main  arteries,  following'  the  general 


course  o 


f  tile  rid;.'e,  look  tlie  very  simple  names  of  Koic,  Middle,  and  Hack  streets. 


♦  The  Library  buildiiij;  was  eompleted  in   \><W.     Its  reading-room  eontaiiiH  Paul  Aker.s' 


I'earl  Diver 


This  buildinii  is  also  the  home  of  the  Maine  Ilistorieal  Soeietv,  where  an  hour 


may  be  prolitably  spent  among  tlie  gathered  relies  of  bygone  times. 

'■  Market  Square  has  just  witnessed  the  demolition  of  tlio  old  city  buihling.  whieli  stood 
where  the  Soldiers'  .Momimeiil  is  now  (IH'.MI)  being  erected.  This  building  was  the  combined 
town-hall  and  market-house,  wlicnce  comes  tlie  name  of  the  space  around  it  ;  and  at  one  time 
it  cimtained  the  only  hall  for  jiublic  nieeliiigs  in  Portland.  .Many  citizens  .strongly  objected 
to  its  removal  on  aecount  of  its  inten-sting  associations. 

"  Coinmodoie  I'reble  lived  and  died  in  a  house  on  Middle  Street,  belonging  to  the  briga- 
dier, his  father,  anil  now  reiilaced  by  the  Casco  Hi'iik  building.  The  I'rebU-s  came  to  Port- 
land from  York.  It  is  a  distinguished  family,  whose  history  is  closely  allied  with  that  of 
Maine. 

'  (Jeiieral  Peleg  Wadsworth  removeil  to  lliram.  His  escape  is  related  in  "Nooks  and 
Corners  of  the  New  Kngland  Coast." 

"  Kev.  Thomas  Smith,  originally  of  Hoston,  came  to  Falmouth  as  chaplain  to  the  troops 
])osted  then'  in  17:i">,  U-ing  ordained  minister  of  the  First  Church  in  ITii".  conliiiuing  in  that 
office  until  the  ehi.se  of  the  year  17H4.  His  .Journal,  with  that  of  his  colleague.  Samuel  Deane, 
was  edited  and  jmblished  by  William  Willis  in  1HI!>. 

"  William  'I'yng's  father  commaniled  the  colonial  fleet  sent  against  I-ouisburg  in  174.i. 
Ills  grandfather  died  a  prisoner  in  the  Chfiteau  .\ngoulcme,  in  FraiK'e,  whither  he  h.id  been 
sent,  with  John  Nelson,  upon  the  reiire.sentations  of  Fronleiiae,  by  whom  he  had  been  taken. 


William  Tyng  was  bi>ni  in  lloston  in  I' 


When,  in  17<i7,  he  received  tlii^  appointment  of 


sheriff,  he  went  to  Falmouth,  or  Portland.  Some  time  after  the  peace  he  returned  to  .Maim 
St.  Paul's  Kpiscopal  Church,  Portland,  was  erected  under  his  patronage.  He  died  in  1M<)7 
and  is  buried  in  the  F^astern  Ceineterv. 


^"  Arthur  Mackworth  settled  here  uniler  a  grant  from  (iorges  as  early  as  Hi 


(iitil 


recently,  the  island  has  always  been  known  as  Maekay's.  Mr.  Kaxter,  the  present  owner,  has 
found  cvideiici'8  of  old  Indian  cani]>s  there,  which  are  so  common  about  the  shores  anil  islands 
of  this  bay. 

"  New  Casco  FortstixHl  on  ground  now  owned  by  (ieneral  .1.  .M.  llrowii,  of  Portland.  It 
was  completed  OctolM-r  ft,  17<H>.  by  Captain  .lohn  (Jyles.  .vho  had  been  taken  by  the  ln<lians, 
when  a  boy.  at  the  .-racking  of  Pemai|uid.     .\  furious  assault,  nnule  on  this  fort  in  I7<i.>.  was 


fnistrat<'d  by  the  timely  arrival  of  Caiitain  Southaik's  relieving  vessel.    Peiihallow  gives 


II  g(  K  id 


account  of  thi^  affair.  Only  a  few  months  before,  the  Indians  renewed  their  ]ile<lges  of  p-ace, 
made  on  this  very  sjMit.  and  commemorated  by  the  erection  of  two  jiiles  of  stones,  calleil 
the  Two  I  trot  hers  !  This  name  now  attaclies  to  the  two  little  islands  lying  out  beyonil 
.Mackworth's. 


;^-*.., 


I    -_. 


p  ^ 

4 
I 


niAITKIl    XIl. 


CAfU!.'    IIAV. 


"  —  wliiri"  liillsiilf  iijik.s  itiul  Im('<'Ih'8 
Ovriimik  the  luiiu  lillic  nadirs, 
SilviT  ciivi-H,  ami  pi'lililcil  hcarhi's, 
Ami  uret'ii  IsU-h  nf  (.'iihcu  Hiiy."  —  Wiiittikh. 

SO  Ifiii;,'  !is  wf  iiiiiy  kiM'p  our  eyes  off  tin*  clfiir-ciit  lim*  of  hliin  H(;a  out  in  tin* 
otliii';,  (J;i.sc(t  U:iy  looks  lik**  nothing  so  iiiii<-li  as  soiiii'  islaiiil-stiKhlfd  liikf, 
likf  \Viiiin'|M'sauk<'<'  or  I,;ikt'  (ifoij^c.  Moiiiitiiiiis  only  art-  wanting,'  to  tin-  illu- 
sion. r>ut.  shoulil  Wf  lilt,  our  i-yi-s  to  lli<-  liori/on,  tln-rr  an-  the  st-a  and  tin*  sliipH 
again. 

To  tlu!  plain,  niatt(^r-or-fa(!t  ohsjTvcr,  this  Way  looks  as  if  it  )ia<l  Immmi  lirst 
ploUL,'li<'*l  out  of  the  niainlaiitl,  and  afterwards  lillt-d  ln-tw-fcn  furrows  ity  tin- 
in-rusliin^  water  <»f  the  ocean.  Hvon  the  eour.se  taken  liy  the  roek-defying 
share  seems  too  |il:iinly  iudieated  to  leave'  room  for  doulit.  Hut  what  of  the 
power  th.it  moved  if.'  what  of  the  forc.»;s  that  could  rip  up  fields  of  j,'ranite  as 
the  pIou<;hnian  turns  his  sod? 

If  we  go  to  the  luiiinland  for  an  e.\plan:ition,  we  shall  find  at  the  northeast 
<'orn<'r  of  the  l»;iy  a  handed  clump  of  long,  prong-shapeil  ridges  of  hard  granite, 
either  peninsulas  or  islands,  that  are  liarely  severed  from  the  main,  thrust ing 
th<-mselves  out  into  the  sea,  for  many  miles,  in  a  uniform  southwes*.  direction. 
'I'lieso  facts  woidd  certaiidy  seem  to  elucidate  the  wliole  philosophy  of  cause 
and  effect  here.  .Mare  |'(»int,  Ilarpswell  Ne(^k,  Bailey's,  Orr's.  Sehaseodegun 
islands  form  this  extraordinary  group,  thu  coast-line  of  which  can  hardly  he 
less  than  a  hundred  miles,  if  all  its  siimosities  he  followed.  If,  now,  we  shall 
trace  their  course  out  to  sea,  we  disc(»ver  that  the  outer  iNlands  of  Caseo  I'lay, 
like  the  sundered  art ic\dat ions  <d'  an  enormous  liackltone,  merely  piolong  these 
peninsulas  in  the  .same  southwest  direction.  This,  then,  was  the  course  taken 
liy  that  terrilde  ploughsharit  when  it  ripped  up  the  coast  of  Maine,  and  left 
the.se  ridges  of  rock  to  show  where  it  had  passed.' 

We  start  out  into  this  hay.  therefore,  with  a  most  interesting  natural  phe- 
nomenon in  hand,  to  the  elucidation  of  whi(  h  wi;  hring  our  own  unscientific 
hypothesis. 

It  has  hecome  ipiite  the  fashion  to  say  that  there  are  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  islands  in  ( 'asco  May  ;  no  niore.no  h'ss.  That  is  what  mtist  peoph' 
will  tell  you.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  dislodge  a  popular  error  i»f  long  standing. 
In  reality,  there  are,  Iiowever.  hut  a  hundred  and  twenty-tw(j,  without  counting 
rocks  where  nothint/  hut  a  sea-tridl  finds  a  foothold 


S  il 


mere  rocks  where  nothing  hut  a  sea-gidl  finds  a  foothold. 


175 


1.1  I 


1 7«; 


Till:  I'Im;  I  |{|:i,  »  masi' 


! 


'rill'  nmrsf  usually  sailftl  l»y  |il<'asuri'  sfcaiiicrs,  m  •,'uiiiL,'  Iruin  I'.. it  Iain!  tu 
tlif  Ki-mihImt,  wiiiils  ill  ami  out  Im-Iwimmi  !i<iii^'  Islaml  ami  tin-  t  wu  ('liflicaj,Mi('S," 
across  liUcksfs  SoiiihI,  and  nut  a^iiin  tlirou^'li  Uruail  SouimI.  In  cDniitarisdii 
with  the  niitsidf  louti-,  lioiii  licafllainl  to  lii-adlanii,  this  is  a  vtiv  fi<)(»ki'd  mad 
indfi'd,  Init  it,  j,'ivcs  iiiurh  the  ln-st  id<-a  nl  fhi-  ln-autii'S  ol'  tin-  liay.  as  \v<ll  as  ol' 
its  LjriMt,  cxti'iit,  and  its  |M'culiar  lonu.  We  an-  so  taken  up  with  looking' at, 
thi-  niultitud*?  of  i^land>  timt  t  iiiif  <u- distance  is  scarcely  noteil.  And  last,  hut, 
not.  h'ast,  in  the  otimation  ol  very  many  worthy  jicople,  the  water  is  seldom 
too  rou;^di  to  he  tiavellcd  with  coinloit.. 

W'c  will  su|)|tose  ourstdves  emliarked,  then,  on  hoard  one  ol  the  swil't,  litth? 
hoat.s  that  ply  these  waters  during,'  the  summer  season.  In  ten  minutes  we 
arc /.i;^-/,a^';,'in^'  anion;,'  that,  wonderlul  eomliination  id'  capes,  headlands,  penin- 
sulas, sounds,  inlets,  and  islands  lor  which  this  hay  is  so  lamed. 

From  the  diminutive  rock,  which  tviry  passing,'  wave;  suMithi'rs  with  loam, 
to  the  slumherous  monsters  stret.(died  out,  at  full  len^dli  in  the  distant  onin;.,', 
islands  conl'ront  us  on  every  hand.  • 'n  some  we  sec  ^ray  old  Torts;  on  s<miic, 
prim  little  st,ecp|cs  or  weat hei-lieat.cn  rarmhouses;  while  those  lyiii^'  ne;irest, 
the  city  and  devoted  to  its  pleasures  look  <piite  like  a  paint.cr's  palette,  in  their 
haphazard  jumhlinj^  together  of  colors,  hy  which,  nevert ludcss,  some  very  pleas- 
ing' kalcidoscopit!  elfects  are  prorluced. 

The  extreme  hrilliaiicy  of  the  ^'recnsward,  its  elTcctive  c(uitrast  with  the 
warm  reds  or  cool  k'^'.vs  (d  the  rocks,  and  rich  yellows  of  the  Idadih-i-wecd, 
han.uiiiKto  them  in  thick-clustering  mas.scs,  is  a  constant  i|eliL,'ht. 

The  wooded  islands  are  prettiest.  I  saw  notliin;^  that  pleased  me  iictter 
than  Litlli-  I )iamond,^  with  its  stronK-linihed  oaks  spreading;  out  ^rcat  clusters 
of  ^'recn  leaves  over  tin-  varic^'ated  rocks.  (Ireat  Diamond,  too,  shows  (piite 
extensive  tracts  <d'  primitive  forest  i^'iowth.  tMhers  have  succumhed  to  the 
depredations  «d'  coast  in;,'-vi'ssels.  Some,  inrlecd.  are  as  hare  as  one's  hand  :  Cow 
Nland,  for  example,  is  treeless.  Mere  and  there  one  e.xhiliits  u  JH-Ioton  of  dead 
pines  standing'  like  scarecrows  alon^' an  arid  waste  of  hurnt-up  turf.  I'lil.  all 
inviting  as  they  look,  there  is  liar<lly  one  of  them  without  it-^  tale  of  hlood- 
shed  or  its  memories  <d'  shipwreck. 

.So  we  slip  hy  liontj  Island.' and  onto  Litt  le  ( 'heltisc^Mie,  wit  h  it -,  t  rim-looking' 
hotel  and  pine.j,'rove  l>ack;;roiind.  Whichever  way  we  approa<di  it.  this  island 
makes  a  charming  picture  from  the  water.  It  has  a  line  lon;^'  hea<di,  loo.  and 
is  joined  hy  a  sand-har  to  (ireat  (Jliehea^'iie. 

.\t  Little  ('liehea;,'ue,  some  very  much  sun-hurned  ^'irls  were  lishin^' olT  the 
hoat-laudin;;.  They  had  already  made  a  ^ood  catch  of  cunners,  pollock,  plaice, 
or  sciilpins,  —  for  all  is  lisli  that  comes  to  a  youn;^  woman's  net.  —  thouijh  it  was 
evident  enou^di  that  they  were  only  Mshinj^  for  the  sport  of  the  thin>^.  \'et.  as 
often  as  one  pulled  up  ;i  ciinner  or  a  pi*llock,  wii!.,'^'lin}{  under  the  a^onitts  of  the 
hook,  all  the  rest  stood  on  tiptoe,  and  screamed  in  concert,  until  a  certain  ilull- 
featured  hoy.  with  «»ne  suspender,  who  was  siipportiii'^  the  capstan  of  the  wharf. 
tiMik  his  hand.s  out  of  his  pockcLs  to  unhook  the  tish  [tn  tliein. 


■tt.T 
,|i'l'S 
|Ult<' 

(  "ilW 
.I.M.I 

ill  (111 l- 

I.  :iiiil 

.11'  th.' 
.liiitT, 
i1  \v;is 
•I.  :is 
(li  tli«- 
1.  .ImU- 

Wllilll. 


Ill 


I 


4if-s- 


!l 


'f  <] 


■'.    u 


i 


fASCO    HAV. 


17«.« 


MH"*.     II.     II.    HTOWK. 


Groat  ('h»'l«':if,'ut'  is  a  little  rt'imltlif^  of  two  thon.sand  acres,  havinj;  its  own 

cliurclifs,  schnollumscs,  iiiid  stores,  with  a  <iiiite  larj,'e  residi'iit  population.      In 

fjeneral,  the  aliori^'iiial    names  of  Maim*  are  jawbreakers;  Imt  we  »[o  not    find 

those  n-niainin",'  aliont  this  hay  so  unprououuceable  as  those  existing  farther 

eiist,    while    as    between    IIo},'   and 

Chebeague  the    relic   of   Itarbarisin 

would  certainly  receive  the  sutfrage.^i 

of   all  travellers   over   the  sign  of 

civilization. 

We  glide  on  jtast  the  shores  of 

Great     Chebeague,     steer    between 

Hope    and    Little   Hangs,  out  into 

l»road    Sound,    leaving     (-'roteh, 

.Jewell's,'*  and  their  satellites  astern. 

Far  out  in    the  otting  we  can  now 

make  out  the  tall,  gray  lighthouse 

on  Half-Wa}'  liock  again.*    It  is  but 

a  short  run  now  across   the  .sound 

into  potts'    Hariior.  at  the  extrcnie 

seaward  point  of  Harpswidl  Neck. 
All    the    world    has   read    Mrs. 

Htowe's  "  IVarl  of  ( )rr"s  Island,"  and 

Grr's   Island  lies  out  in    full  view 

before  us.     She  has  told  us  about  the  lives  of  the   jieople.      Mr.    W'liitticr  has 

given  us  one  of  their  most  grewsonic  legends. 

It  is  to  b»*  feared  that  nearly  everybody  comes  to  Ilarpswell  expecting  to 

see  something  out  of  the  common, 
and  that  nearly  everylHidy  goes 
away  di.sappointed. 

A  comparison  between  what  may 
be  seen  by  the  eye  of  genius  and 
the  eye  of  a  casual  looker-on  would 
be  manifestly  unfair;  yet  all  of  us 
are  fond  of  visiting  places  that  have 
been  celebrated  by  genius.  It  is 
not.  therefore,  an  ordinary  visit  we 
are  making,  but  a  jiilgrimage. 

For  me,  the  old  legendary  stories 
of  a  jiast  generation,  which  have 
their  natural  habitat   near  the  sea. 

have  always  had  a  peculiar  (diarm.     Not  seldom  they  invest  ]»lai'es.  otherwise 

insipid  enough,  with  a  certain  Havor  in  sjiite  of  thems.dves.      They    should  not 

be   too   hastily   classed    witli    old    wives'   tales    lieeause    their   origin    may   be 

unknown,  but  should  Hnd  a  place  anutUi;  thos(»  secret  iieliefs  to  whicli  all  of  us 


TIIK    (•I.VIX!     niTCIIMAV. 


are  more  or  less  susci 


'])tibU 


1S(( 


TIIK    riNK-TRKK   COAST. 


■m 


h  > 


I'lKin  tliis  Lrrouiul  our  vciuTultlr  poet  was  askcil  lor  the  nativity  ol  the 
••  Dead  Ship  nf  JlarpsufU,"  which  he  iiitrtMlucfs  with  the  following  verse  :  — 

•••II.iv,' 
lie  Miiitl.  i)H  (lied  tile  fiiiiii   ipiiliiiisf. 

>  Is  hoiiu'tliiii^  tliat  I  loiihil  hisi  vcar 
Down  nil  tlie  islaiiil  known  as  (Mr's. 
I  liail  it  from  a  fair-liaireil  ^iii 
Who,  oddly,  bore  tlie  name  of  I'earl, 
As  if  by  some  droll  freak  of  rireiimsiaiice. 
Classic,  or  Wflliiii;li  so.  in  llaiiici  Siowt's  roin;ini'c,'  " 

Here  is  liis  rejily :  "Sonte  twenty  years  a^jo  1  received  Iroia  Miss  Marion 
Peail.  ihiughter  of  Ifev.  Mr.  I'earl,  a  well-known  eler.Ltynian  of  Maine,  a  letter, 
(U'seriiitivf  of   the  iieopU',  hahits.  superstitions,  ami   lei,'en(ls  id   Hrr's   Island, 

where.  I  think,  the  writer  was  a  teaeher. 
The  legend  id'  a  speetre  slii]i.  as  deserilied 
in  my  poem,  inti-rested  me  l>y  its  weird  sug- 
gestiveness.  I  have  no  doiiht  that  a  tpiarter 
td'  a  eentury  aouthe  legend  was  talkt>d  of  nii 
the  island  hy  the  aged  pt'ople.  Perhaps  it 
has  «lied  out  now.  The  sehool  teaeher  has 
lieen  aliroad  sinee.  and  the  new  generation 
are  ashamed  of  tlie  lireside  lore  of  their 
grandmothers." 

Whoever   has  seen   the  play  of  the  fog 
aliont  the  masts  and  sails  of  some  ])assing 
*    vessel    will  have    ha<l  a    lepinduetion   irom 
life  of  the  phantom  ship,    i^ike  that  dooim-d 
*^    *"  wanderer  of  the  main,  the    Flying    i)uteh- 

SKAMAKK.  man.  tlio  ••  l)t.;iil  Ship  of   Harpswell  "  never 

eomes  into  port  ;   tor 

••JuHt  wlieii  -lu'  mars  flii'  wait  in;:  shore. 
She  drifts  ajjain  to  sia." 

Votts'  Harhor  exhiliits  a  wharf,  some  tish-houses,  two  ptililie  houses,  n  tree- 
less point,  with  a  little  ptdilile  la'aeh  under  it.  and  a  <piite  high  island  (  Haskell's) 
lying  out  hefore  it.  .\t  the  eastward.  Itaih-y's  Island  ami  <  )rr's  Island  enclose 
llarpsw»dl  Sound  Kagle  Island  is  a  strikiie^  landmark,  it  Iieing  high,  round, 
and  all  one  mass  of  greenery. 

From  Ilaipswell,  or  Merrycoiieag  Neek.  our  emirse  lies  out  through  the 
narrow  passage  between  Haskell's  Island  and  Little  .Mark  Island,  on  which  a 
lonely  looking  monument  points  (»ut  the  eastern  i»ortal  id  Cascu  May.  Clearing 
this  passage,  and  the  dangerous  ledges  arotnid  it,  we  once  more  ii.x'wi  the  free 
and  open  sea,  shapiie^'  now  an  east-southeast  course  for  Cape  Small  I'oint,* 
distant  a  duzeii  miles  or  so. 


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Thn  npi>n  son !  Ah,  that  is  s<)lll<•tllill^'  to  svhicli  a  first  ititnwluctioii  may 
prove  no  sucli  a),'r('r'al»|c  cxpcrii'iuM',  al'ti-r  all !  It  was  mvmi  so  to-<lay,  jii<lj,'i»k' 
l)y  tlif  Hiiilil<-iMlisapp)'araii<'<' of  til*' k'Tfatt'i'  part  o  I'  tln'  passfuj^'frs  Iroiii  tin-  diM-ks, 
tint  \v)iolly  iiiicoiivciitioiial  attitiiilrs  of  tix*  f*'\v  who(li.siiially  liii^^fil  tin-  Im>iicIii's 
ill  sij^lif,  lis  wt'll  as  nt,lnT  ami  fvcii  morn  iinmistakalili'  sif^iis  of  pliysiial 
pntstratioii  that  I  lit*  lioat  now  pr*'si>iiti')|.  As  I  was  makiii,L;  a  /i^-za^  romsc 
aloti^  th<>  lowi'r  tlcfk,  from  one  ohji'rt  of  support  to  another,  a  suililcn  liirrh 
thrt'W  iiif  into  flif  arms  of  tin-  matt',  who  w;i.s  comin^^  from  tln'  opposite 
iliri'i'tioii.  ''Most  allii/  liml  an  old  sea  riinnin'  round  the  Oapi',"  h<'  said;  then 
adding,"  Most  allu/  makes  moit-  or  h'ss  folks  onwell,  the  motion  doos.  \V<-  had 
two  j,'i'iits  altoard  of  us  last  trip.  One  (d  'cm  was  a  lawyer.  .N'y  u'"'*"'.  wasn't 
he  done  up,  thou^di  !  T'other  Wasn't  a  hit.  There  he  .sot,  smoking'  as  ealm  as  a 
kitten.  He  was  a  liiKh-up  jed^'e  «•»'"'  down  t<»  hold  court.  '(!an  I  do  anythiii;,' 
foryfui'.''  says  he,  '  Ves,' j^asped  the  .seasick  one ;  'I  wish  your  honor  would 
overrule  this  motion.'  " 

As  we  rounded  the  stark  promontory,  so  .sad  and  austere,  our  eyes  eau^dit 
the  glimmer  of  a  lon^'  samldieaeh,  ed^ed  with  foam,  sti'ete|iin;(  away  from  it  at. 
the  east.  Sequin  '  and  its  li^^hthouse  now  ro.s<!  up  hefore  us.  I'ond  Island,  with 
its  tower,  stood  out  from  the  moving  shores.  These  are  the  well-known  land- 
marks of  the  Keiiiielier  for  which  We  Were  now  s«'archin^  with  all  oiireyes,  when 
suddeidy  the  coast  line  parted,  and  out  came  a  tow-hoat,  liclrhin^'  forth  volumes 
ol  thick,  Idack  smoke,  and  draj^^iii^;  alter  her  a  Ioiik  string;  of  schooners,  that 
were  wallowiiij,'  deep  in  the  wati'i',  with  the  ice  they  carried  under  their  hatches. 
'I'liey  had  hardly  cleared  the  river's  mouth  before  another  similar  convoy 
lolhtwed  them. 

Then  there  was  music  in  the  air.  \^\t  went  the  sails,  off  went  the  tow-lines, 
and  <»ut  to  sea  hounded  the  ea^jer  vessels,  the  spray  (diml)inj^  hi^dier  and  hij,dier 
at  their  hows,  as,  with  t,'athered  speed,  they  threw  the  hi^  seas  olT  their  ^,deam- 
iui^  sides.  The  sij,dit  was  exhilarating  enough.  As  one  tall  fellow  swept  past 
UH  with  roaring  how  and  foaming  sides,  I  coidd  not  repress  an  exclamation  of 
deli(,dit  —  it  was  su(di  a  ^.'allaiit  sij^ht.  ft  was  aj^ain  the  mate  who  protfered  his 
wtu'd  of  information.  "That  head  (jne,  there,"  he  oh.served,  "  is  the  one  that 
sunk  the  wlutle  I'nited  States  Navy.'' 

"  Did  what?"  I  douhtin,i,dy  asked. 

"  Why,  didn't  you  he.ir  of  it '.' ''  he  rejoined.  "  She  run  down  the  Tnfhiintosu, 
a  steam  corvette,  «)r  soniethin;,',  in  the  Vineyard  Sound.  They  say  orders  was 
issued  for  f^oveninient  steamers  to  },dt  out  <d'  the  way  oi  sailing'  vessels  in 
future;  for  if  a  i>ath  s«diooner  cr)uld  down  a  man-of-war  in  th;it  fashion,  where 
won;  wo?  and  that's  what  .started  such  u  hue  and  cry  ahout  our  not  having'  a 
navy,  you  hoc." 

liut  here  wean*  in  smooth  water  aj^'aiii,  tied  up  to  the  wharf  at  K<»rt  I'op- 
liam.  with  the  river  Howing  quietly  past,  as  it  has  Howcul  since  the  iieKinninu 
of  time. 


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THE   I'lNE-TKEE  COAST. 


If.'" 

pi 


1  It  is  a  fact  that  all  the  islands  do  lie  in  three  parallel  ranges,  topographically  classed  as 
the  Inner,  Middle,  and  Outer  Hange.  The  niunber  is  too  great  to  be  given  in  detail,  but  it  is 
interesting  to  think  that  Cusliing's  Island  may  once  have  formed  i)art  of  Mare  Point,  as  tlie 
Outer  (Jreen,  Jewell's,  etc.,  perhaps  did  of  llarpswell  Neck,  or  Half-Way  Hock  of  Bailey's  or 
Kebascodegan. 

-  Little  Diamond  is  a  station  of  the  lighthouse  service  for  the  Maine  coast. 

^  Long  Island  is  considered  one  of  the  most  valuable  and  productive  of  the  group.  It  is 
two  and  a  half  miles  long,  lias  two  hundred  and  fifty  inhabitants,  and  is  separated  from  Peak's 
by  Ilussey's  Sound,  by  which  there  is  a  good  passage  out  to  sea. 

•*  Jewell's  Island  is  tlie  farthest  land  of  Casco  Bay.  Half- Way  Kock  is  farther  out,  but 
is  only  bare  ledge.  In  some  respects,  Jewell's  is  the  most  interesting  of  all  the  islands  liere. 
In  1070  it  gave  refuge  to  the  miserable  renuiant  of  the  inhabitants  of  Falmouth  destroyed, 
though  proving  by  no  means  a  .safe  a.sylum,  as  the  Indians  soon  drove  them  off  the  island. 
At  tliis  early  time  there  was  a  garrison-house  here.  There  is  a  cave  by  the  shore,  whicli  may 
have  served  the  refugees  as  a  hiding-place. 

''  This  is  a  Hashing  red  light.  The  exposed  condition  of  the  rock  on  which  it  stands  will 
be.st  appear  from  the  report  of  the  happenings  of  a  storm  in  the  winter  of  iyi^8-^!».  ^Ir. 
Alexander,  one  of  the  keepers,  says  that  the  sea  ran  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  high  ovi'r  the  rock. 
One  sea  rushed  by  the  side  of  the  house,  reaching  to  the  eaves,  which  are  tlfteen  feet  above 
the  ledge.  Tlie  same  sea  carried  away  the  rail  that  runs  from  the  IJght  Tower  to  the  Bell 
Tower,  a  distance  of  one  hundred  feet.  Another  sea  struck  the  Bell  Tower,  a  building  forty 
feet  high,  set  up  on  legs  and  braced  with  iron  braces.  The  sea  broke  those  brace''!  off  and 
bent  the  iron  ladder  so  that  it  was  left  in  the  shape  t)f  a  rainbow.  Huge  pieces  of  rock, 
amounting  to  several  hundred  tons,  were  broken  off  the  eastern  side  of  the  rock  and  carried 
across  to  the  western  side,  a  distance  of  three  hundred  feet. 

«  A  summer  colony  is  located  here.  The  locality  has  taken  the  name  of  ropham  Beach. 
The  sea-look  from  the  hill,  back  of  this  beach,  is  remarkably  fine. 

■  Seguiii  is  very  high  and  bold,  and  is  well  placed  for  performing  its  important  function 
of  keejier  of  the  Kennebec.  Indeed,  it  is  one  of  the  best  known  landmai'ks  of  all  this  coast. 
The  light  is  a  fixed  white  of  great  power.  It  shines  out  from  a  height  of  two  liundred  feet 
above  low-water  mark.  Seguin  is  undoubtedly  a  coiTui)tion  of  Satquin,  the  Indian  name, 
which  first  appears  in  Strachey's  account  of  Popham's  voyage. 


It     I 


CHAPTEK  XIII. 

rriK    (iATK    OF    THK    KKXNEBKO. 

"ris  not  too  latu  to  seek  <a  newer  world  ; 
I'usli  off,  and  sitting;  well  in  order,  smite 
The  soundinu;  furrows." 


^ 


H(  )WEVER  liistoriiins  may  differ,  two  things  seem  certain :  one  is  that 
somebody  discovered  the  Kennebec,  the  other  is  that  tliis  discovery  was 
ma(h3  previous  to  tlie  year  1()(>7 ;  because,  when  the  first  colony  was  sent  out 
of  England  for  this  i)art  of  the  world,  it  was  directed  to  this  very  river  and  no 
other.  The  fact  of  discovery  being  thus  established,  the  inquiry  remains  as  to 
who  the  original  discoverer  may  have  been.^ 

There  can  hardly  be  a  doubt,  we  think,  that  these  colonists  knew  where 
they  were  going.  Xo  time  was  wasted  in  exploration.  They  wn-nt  straight  to 
the  spot  for  wliich  they  had  set  out. 

There  ct.  ■  be  as  little  doubt,  it  is  believed,  that  the  reported  discovery  of 
a  great  riv^r  in  Xew  England,  or  rather  in  Virginia,  by  one  Captain  George 
AVeymotith,  was  the  moving  cause  out  of  which  this  enterprise  grew  iip.  A 
great  river  is  etpiivalent  to  a  great  key  unlocking  a  country. 

The  language  used  in  describing  this  river  is  worthy  of  attention :  "  Some 
of  them  that  were  with  Sir  Walter  Kaleigh,  in  his  voyage  to  Guiana,  in  the 
disco\  >ry  of  the  Orinoco  .  .  .  gave  reasons  why  it  was  not  to  be  compared 
to  this  river :  others  before  that  notable  river  in  the  West  Indies  called  the 
Kio  Grande."     The  Loire,  Seine,  and  Garonne  are  all  declared  to  be  inferior. 

Sin(!e  it  woidd  be  difficult  to  convince  ourselves  that  old  sailors  like  these 
did  not  know  a  great  river  when  they  saw  it  with  their  own  eyes,  either  the 
narrative  of  Weymouth's  voyage  is  a  pure  fabrication,  or  it  was  a  great  river 
and  not  a  little  one  that  Avas  discovered. 

If  that  narrative  be  fictitious,  the  details  it  gives  are  not  worth  considering, 
because  the  whole  pith  <jf  it  lies  in  this  one  memorable  action. 

Jh\t  we  know  that  there  was  a  great  river  about  where  the  narrative  says 
it  was.  So  far,  then,  the  fact  bears  witness  to  the  veracicy  of  the  narrative. 
We  also  know  that  Weymouth  sjient  a  whole  month,  wanting  only  a  day.  in 
ex])loring  the  vicinity.  And  we  know,  furthermore,  :hat  the  colonists,  who 
followed  so  dlosely  in  Weymouth's  traces,  neither  went  into  any  other  river 
nor  had  any  difficulty  whatever  in  finding  the  one  they  were  in  seandi  of, 
after  they  had  once  recovered  Weymouth's  landmarks  That  some  one  carried 
the  discovery  of  the  Kennebec  to  England,  in  season  for  its  api)ropriation  by  the 
colonists  of  1607,  is  therefore  indisputable. 

185 


](■  111 


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nil;  I'lNK-ruKK  coam 


W'c  (Mil  ,H<)  one  step  liirtlicr.  Wfymoiitli  ki(lii;i|i|)i'i|  live  Imliuiis,  tliii-c  of 
wlidiii  ui-rc  s('i/c(|  liy  Sir  l'"fr(liii;iii(|()  (ior.ni'S  ;is  soon  ;is  tln-y  rrnclicd  I'lv  iiiontli. 
Wlii'ii  t.li<'.y  liinl  piik"''!  lip  ('11(1111,^1  IOii.nl isli  to  l)c  nlilc  to  ij;']\t'  :iii  account,  of 
i.'iciiisclvcs  and  ol  tlicir  c()iiiit,i\ ,  tlicy  pro\('(l  -tin'  means,  iiiidcr  (lod,"  — 
these  are  <i()ri,fes"  own  words  — ol  tiiinin.!^  Iiis  attention  to  coloni/at  ion.  Now 
(ior'^^cs  was  liiniseH  one  u[  the  oi'i;.^diiat,(irs  (d  the  l'o|diaiii  (toionv  (d  I'i07. 
W'e  ha\'e  liere  his  own  story  (d'  how  lie  hecaiiie  one.  And  we  can  hardly  lie 
in  doiilit,  I  her(d'or(',  alioiil  WeynioulJi's  having'  cai'ried  l»a<d\  the  uiiiiiipea(dial)l(' 
evidence  of  his  discovers  ill  the  persons  of  these  Indians,  since  the  lirst,  steps 
lor  phiiitin^^a  cidony  at   the  Keiinelpec  hc'^aii  within  a,  t  W(ds(iiiont  h  or  so. 

We  know  further,  that  when  (!liaiiiplaiii  went,  into  the  Keiiiieliec.  a  little 
later  thai;  W'ey  iiioiit  li,  i  he  sa.va,L,M'S  of  that,  river  t.old  him  that  live  lA'  their 
men  had  lieen  killed  liy  flie  |ieople  of  a,  strange  ship,  and  her  aiKdiora^c 
was   poiiite(|  out,  to   him. 

'I'his  voya;.^e  (d'  \\'e\  iiioul  h.  and  the  eoiiiiii;^^  <d  tlie  colonists  (d  Kill?,  are 
tliiii;.^s  so  (d()S(d\'  ndalcd  that,  the  last,  was,  lie\-oiid  all  iiiiestioii.  'he   outcome   (d' 


:&^^m>s^^^^^^^.^^^^. 


ion  I     I'lil'll  \  M.     M.NN  line      II  l\  ll:. 


VI 


the  lii'sl.  we  lind.  t,her(d'ore.  a  reiiiarkahle  se<pience  <i\'  events  pointing'  us 
uiicrrinj^dy  to  the  Keiimdiec  as  Weymouth's  ureal,  river. 

An  iiiitinished  fort,  roofed  over  to  protect  it  from  the  weather.  im|)o'eiit 
enou'^li  in  it.s  ability  t,o  afford  protection,  stands  out  on  ;i  hare  led'^^^e.  at  Iliin- 
iiew(drs  I'oiiit.  where  We  pass  into  the  Keiiindicc.-  'I'his  point  <d'  land  forms 
part,  of  the  ancient,  peninsula  of  Saliiiio,  of  wlii(di  the  I'opham  colonists  took 
possession  for  t  lieii'  fort,  and  sett  leiiieiil  ;  so  that  the  ]tresent  fort  stands  for  ;i 
memorial  to  the  iirsi  I'ji^lisli  foi't  irmation  ever  erected  in  New  lOn^land,  us 
W(dl  as  to  the  ill-starred  colony  itsidl. 

It  is  prohalile  that  t  his  colony  did  more  to  discourai^e  ('mi},M'atioii  than  to 
h(d|)  it.  It  l(dl  to  piccM'.s  from  its  own  inherent  weaknesses,  'i'liat  it  was  an 
early  failure  can  iiurfjly  admit  it  to  rank  with  later  successes,  us  mucli  as  we 
may  liave  wislictl  it  u  Ix'tter  fortune.  'The  world  does  not  tuke  j,'r(;ut  pride  in 
its  failures. 

Tliere  ai'c,  however,  a,  .^ood  many  interesting^  incidents  coiinecteil  with  tliis 
colony,  tlu;  lirst exiu'riiiKJiifal  <dfort  of  the  i^reat   I'lymouth  Compuny,  tiie  rivul  of 


I  r' 


ill 


III 
lit! 


Tin:  r.XVK  OF    riiK  kknnebkc. 


IKI) 


that  sent  out  to  Virginia  at  nearly  the  same  time,  wliicli  was  meant  to  be  the 
entering  wedge  that  should  break  the  solitude  of  ages.  Of  two  good  l)lo\vs 
struek.  only  one  took  effect. 

Its  master-spirit  was  no  less  a  personage  than  the  chief-justiee  of  England, 
and  its  leader  his  brother.  The  lord-chief-justice  died  while  his  colony  was 
on  the  sea,  his  brother  within  six  months  after  the  landing  at  Sabino.  The 
chief-justice  had  presided  at  the  trial  of  Kaleigh.  and  had  been  hissed  for 
coarsely  denouncing  him  in  open  court.  Raleigh's  want  of  success  in  getting 
gold  from  Guiana  proved  his  destruction. 
His  still  fortunate  enemy  did  not  live  to 
know  whether  his  colony  liad  siu'ceeded 
in  getting  gold  from  Virginia  or  not. 

George  ro])ham.  the  president,  was 
old,  i'eel)le,  and  timid;  Kaleigh  Gilbert, 
his  successor.  —  wlio  bore  two  famous 
names  through  his  kindred  of  blood  with 
two  famous  navigators.  —  was,  on  the 
contrary,  young,  headstrong,  and  exceed- 
ingly ambitious.  —  so  much  so.  imlecd, 
as  to  make  some  of  his  colleagues  feel 
extremely  uneasy  Avhen  the  president's 
death  left  the  colony  in  young  Gilbert's 
hands.  He  had  hopes,  it  seems,  of 
reviving  his  distinguished  father's  (daim 
to  all  America  in  himself,  but  these 
visions  faded  with  the  utter  extinguisli- 
ment  of  the  colony  itself.'' 

( >ne  of  the  ships  sailed  for  England 
in  two  months  after  landing  the  colonists. 
It  being  found  that  the  supply  of  pro- 
visions brought  out  would  not  last 
through  the  winter,  in  the  middle  of 
l)ecend)er  all  but  forty  -  live  of  the 
colonists  were  sent  home  in  the  second 

ship.  Two  ri'lief  sliips  left  England  in  March  for  Sagadahoc,  and  in  July  a 
thinl.  By  these  vessels,  the  colonists  learned  of  the  death  of  Sir  John  Popham, 
and  Kaleigh  Gilbert  of  that  of  his  l)rother.  Sir  John,  whose  estate  fell  to  him. 

If  one  may  judge  from  the  letter  that  Popham  wrote  to  the  king  in  Decem- 
ber, b}'  the  sanu^  ship  that  brought  out  the  colonists,  and  was  then  returning, 
his  credulity  was  not  surjiassed  by  his  other  infirmities;  for  in  that  letter  he 
says  :  "All  the  natives  constantly  affirm  that  in  these  parts  there  are  nutmegs, 
mace,  and  cinnamon,  besides  pitch,  brazil-wood,  cochineal,  and  ambergris!" 
( )ther  letters,  by  the  same  ship,  gave  equally  glowing  accounts  of  the  natural 
and  spontaneous  productions  of  the  soil  of  Maine,  though  they  did  not  venture 


K()OT-S(iI.I>IKli    OF    Tin;    TIMK. 


190 


THE   I'lNE-TREE   COAST. 


to  claim  for  it  a  tropical  climate,  and  told  of  the  valuable  deposits  of  ahiin- 
stone  already  discovered.  These  flatteriuf;  reports  were  all  the  freight  the  .ship 
brought  back  to  England.  The  colonists  did  not  want  for  interpreters  ;  because 
Nahanada,  one  of  those  Indians  who,  under  Gorges'  tuition,  had  become  the 
earliest  geograjdiers  of  Maine,  made  them  frecpient  and  ceremonious  visits. 
We  should  rather  sus])ect  that,  on  learning  what  it  was  the  Englishmen  so  much 
desired  to  find,  the  crafty  savages  fooled  them  "  to  the  top  of  their  bent." 

Besides  building  themselves  a  for*-,  —  for  which  Popham  himself  threw  \\\) 
the  first  sjjadeful  of  earth,  and  in  which  he  subsecpiently  found  a  tomb,  —  we 
know  that  these  colonists  planted  gardens,  whose  first-fruits  they  may  have 
tasted,  because  the  roots  and  herbs  they  had  set  in  the  ground  were  found 
growing  among  the  old  Avails  twenty  years  later.  After  getting  their  fort 
enclosed,  they  next  set  about  building  their  storehouse,  as  the  ships  covdd  not 
unload  their  provisions  until  a  shelter  had  been  provided  for.  "We  fancy  that 
none  of  these  buildings  were  of  a  very  permanent  character.  Hubbard  says, 
speaking  upon  hearsay,  that  the  ruins  were  visible  as  late  as  the  first  Indian 
war.     l^y  ruins,  he  is  supposed  to  mean  old  cellars,  not  walls  of  brick  or  stone. 

To  think  of  these  colonists  tramping  through 
the  swamps  and  thickets  of  Georgetown,  as  we 
know  them  to-day,  loaded  down  with  their 
armor,  excites  a  smile.  Their  boat  journeys  to 
the  east  and  the  west  were  undoubtedly  pro- 
ductive of  much  better  results  and  far  less 
fatigue. 

Though  the  torch  had  hardly  been  lighted 
before  it  was  extinguished  again,  the  Kennebec, 
or  Sagadahoc,''  as  it  was  first  called,  had  been 
cleared  of  its  mystery.  It  had  waited  for  ages, 
and  it  could  wait  yet  a  little  longer.  The  visit 
of  Biencourt  and  Father  Biard,  in  1012,  ])artly 
to  procure  help  for  the  colony  at  Port  Koyal, 
and  partly  to  win  over  the  natives  to  the 
French,  tended  still  more  to  bring  out  the  capabilities  of  this  grand  river. 

Once  more  thrown  back  into  its  original  solitutle,  the  Kennebec  flowed  on 
"unvexed  to  the  sea,"  until  the  coming  of  the  Plymouth  Pilgrims,  whose 
necessities  made  them  farmers  at  one  place,  fishermen  at  another,  and  traders 
at  still  another,  but  everywhere  earnest  men  who  knew  no  such  word  as  fail. 
Bradford  tells  us,  under  the  date  of  1G25,  how,  after  getting  in  a  good  harvest, 
they  sent  out  a  boat-load  of  corn  into  the  Kennebec  at  a  venture.  Their  boat 
was  only  a  shallop  of  their  own  building,  on  which  they  had  laid  a  little  deck 
amidships,  to  keep  the  salt  water  from  the  corn;  "  but  the  men  were  faine  to 
stand  it  out  all  weathers  without  shelter,"  Bradford  says,  although  the  time 
of  year  began  to  grow  tempestuous.  This  voyage  was  made  l)y  Edward 
Winslow,  "and  some  of  the  old  standards,  for  seamen  they  had  none."     The 


INDIAN    IILNTER   ON    SNOWSHOES. 


THE    GATK    OF   TIIK    KKNMCIJIOC. 


191 


"  old  standards "  liero  referred  to  were  tlie  iron  remnant  of  the  Mayjloiiie/H 
(;oni]uny.  It  proved  unexpectedly  i)r()tita];le,  however,  the  corn  bringing  them 
seven  hundred  i)oini(ls  of  beaver,  besides  other  furs.  So  they  pressed  this 
advantage  home.  In  the  year  1()2<S  they  set  up  a  trading-house  on  the  east 
bank,  at  Augusta,  so  that  the  Pilgrims  were,  after  all,  the  founders  of  the 
capital  of  Maine.  By  the  next  year  they  had  taken  out  a  patent,  which  gave 
them  a  legal  title  to  fifteen  miles  on  each  side  of  the  river,  and  to  about  half  an 
much  of  its  course  north  and  south.'  With  their  usual  sagacdty,  the  Pilgrims 
had  tapped  the  great  artery  of  the  state. 

We  now  begin  to  hear  of  adventurous  journeys  made  through  the  tratikless 
northern  wilderness,  agiiinst  which  this  lonely  out[)ost  had  bi^ni  set. 

We  have  first  the  account  of  an  Englishman,  called  Caj)tain  Young,  who  is 
reported  by  V^vq  Le  Jeune  to  have  travelled  all  the  way  from  tlu'  English 
house  referred  to,  with  a  single  servant,  and  conducted  Ijy  twenty  savages  in 
canoes  to  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  account  which  he  gave  of  himself  was, 
that  he  was  an  explorer  seeking  for  a  passage  tliis  way  to  the  northern  sea. 
Tliis  happened  as  long  ago  as  the  year  1(540.  P^re  Le  Ji'une  adds  that  this 
hardy  explorer  was  not  allowed  to  go  into  Quebec.  He  then  attempted  to 
return  the  way  he  came ;  but  finding  the  difficulties  insurmountable,  he  had  at 
last  to  turn  back  among  the  inhospitable  Frenchmen  again,  who,  not  knowing 
what  else  to  do  with  him,  finally  shipped  him  oft"  to  France. 

To  this  lone  si)ot  in  the  Avilderness,  which 
the  wary  I'ilgrims  had  made  secure  with  a 
stout  palisade, — for  they  were  far  from  home, 
and  knew  the  crafty  ways  of  their  savage 
neighbors  from  experience, —  to  this  harbor  of 
rest  and  refuge  from  the  perils  of  that  long 
march  from  Canada,  came,  Avith  staff  and 
wallet,  the  Jesuit  Druillettes,  —  he  whom  the 
Abenakis  styled  their  patriarch, — with  the 
view  of  planting  the  cross  among  the  tribes 
here.  He  found  a  hospitable  welcome  at  the 
hands  of  John  Winslow,  in  which  there  was 
no  trace  of  that  rooted  antipathy  which  the 
Puritan  felt  for  the  Church  of  Kome. 

Some  one  has  said,  "That  which  pleases  me  in  history  is  the  minor  cir- 
cumstances, the  details  of  character."  It  is  a  pleasant  thought,  that,  for  once 
at  least,  the  supple  Jesuit  and  the  rigid  Puritan  could  meet  on  t\w  common 
ground  of  Christian  hospitality  and  good-fellowship;  could  break  bread  together. 
and  both  bless  God  for  it,  without  h'^  "boring  resentment  that  one  should  do  so 
differently  from  the  other. 

But  we  are  in  advance  of  our  story.  In  the  meantime,  during  the  summer 
of  1630,  it  so  fell  out  that  some  emigrants,  who  styled  themselves  husbandmen, 
and  their  ship  the  Plough,  had  essayed  a  settlement  somewhere .  about  the  east 


SWOUD,    TARGET,    AND    IlILI.. 


J 


If! 


\\i 


w 


Iff' 


192 


THE  i'im:-thi:e  coast. 


corner  of  Casco  Hay,  though  tlic  ])nH;ise  spot  still  remains  unknown.  After 
only  a  single  year's  trial  of  the  place,  they  deserted  it  in  a  body  for  the  more 
l)romising  lands  and  more  jKjpulous  neighborhood  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  into 
which  other  settlers  were  eagerly  pouring. 

By  order  of  M.  Talon,  the  Chevalier  Saint  Lusson  made  a  journey  to  these 
coasts  in  1G71,  for  the  i)uri)()se  of  notifying  the  inhabitants  that  they  wore  on 
the  territory  of  the  king,  his  master.  He  found  the  banks  of  the  Kenneb'!c,  as 
well  as  all  the  contiguous  seacoast,  "  sowed  with  habitations,  all  well-built  and 
in  excellent  condition."  Five  years  later  the  Indians  had  again  desolated  it. 
Let  us  turn  now  to  more  alluring  themes. 

It  is  a  little  odd,  to  say  the  least,  to  find  that  the  ice,  from  which  the  first 
colonists  fled  in  terror,  should  not  only  have  become  the  greatest  of  all  attrac- 
tions, but  the  chief  source  of  livelihood,  to  the  present  inhabitants. 

In  one  sense  the  Kennebec  might  be  called  the 
circulating  medium  of  the  l^ine-Tree  State. 

The  annual  yield  of  the  ice-fields  of  Maine  is 
roundly  estimated  to  reach  a  million  and  a  half 
tons.  And  the  best  of  it  all  is,  that  these  ice- 
fields, so  humorously  called  plants  in  the  vernacular 
of  the  rivers,  and  unlike  those  of  the  dry  land,  are 
just  as  i)roductive  to-day  as  they  were  fifty  years 
ago,  and  will  be  just  as  fertile  fifty  years  hence 
as  they  are  to-day.  Men  reap  here  Avhere  they  have 
not  sowed.  The  serj)entine  river  is  annually  stripped 
of  its  frozen  skin,  only  to  put  forth  a  thicker  coat 
in  the  season  to  come. 

AVhen  3'ou  are,  at  l>ath,  in  the  coldest  morning  of 
cold  winter,  the  first  thing  they  bring  you  at  break- 
fast is  a  glass  of  ice-water,  in  order  that  you  may 
taste  their  staple  commodity. 

The  ice  busin(!ss  is  by  no  means,  however,  with- 
out its  attendant  anxieties;  for  the  Kennebec  is 
often  open  to  navigation  into  February,  and  while 
the  crop  seldom,  if  ever,  fails,  the  advent  of  freez- 
ing weather,  especially  after  mid-winter  has  come 
ann  gone,  is  watched  for  with  an  eagerness  that 
no  class,  perhaps,  except  ice-cutters  and  ice-shippers  can  appreciate.  Make  ice 
before  the  sun  shines  is  the  maxim  of  the  river.  Zero  weather  means  full 
storehouses ;  it  means  employment  for  thousands  of  laborers,  and  many  thou- 
sand tons  of  shipping ;  it  means  the  circulation  of  ready  cash  among  farmers 
and  storekeepers.  Therefore,  the  lower  that  the  mercury  falls,  the  higher  the 
iceman's  spirits  rise.  It  is  seen,  then,  that  no  greater  misfortune  could  possibly 
overtake  capitalist  or  laborer  than  an  ice-famine. 

Yet  among  all  the  multitudinous  occupations  of  men,  it  is  believed  that  this 


POWDEK-FLASK    OF   THE    TIME, 


TlIK   GATE  OF  'VUK   KKNNKUl'X'. 


v.r.i 


bnsinpss  has  no  proper  countfrpiirt.  Finding,'  yold  amoii^'  tlic  sands  of  Califor- 
nia or  Australia  may  perhaps  furnish  the  nearest  analo;,'y  to  it. 

The  scenes  witnessed  every  winter  on  the  river,  in  the  nei;,diborhood  of  the 
great  ice-houses  at  Kiehmond,  Gardiner,  and  Hallo  well,  when  the  iee-erop  is 
lieinj,'  secured,  are  very  aninuited  and  interesting'.  It  Ikis  alresidy  heen  our 
good  fortune  to  get  a  f^linipsi^  of  the  scene,  witnessed  when  tliis  crop  is  being 
transported  to  the  various  ports  of  the  Union. 

It  would  seem  the  most  luitural  thing  in  the  world  that  the  vessels  engaged 
in  this  traffic  .should  bear  such  high-sounding  and  suggestive  names  as  the 
Ice-Kht(j,  or  the  Ice-MotiarcJi,  or  even  the  In^hcnj.  instead  of  those  of  their 
owners,  or  their  owners'  wives  and  daughters,  which  seem  so  ]»uerile  ami  com- 
monplace. Spi'aking  of  this  to  a  large  taker  of  marine  risks,  he  rejdied,  (piite 
off-hand,  that  nobody  would  think  of  taking  a  risk  on  a  ship  having  the  word 
"ice"  in  any  part  of  its  name,  becaiise  such  names  are  considered  unlueky. 

Ship-building  began  on  the  Kennebec  with  the  launching  of  a  "pvytty 
pynnace  "  by  the  Topham  colonists,  with  which  to  prosecute  their  explorations 
about  the  coast.  She  was  (tailed  the  Vinjiinn,  in  honor  of  the  country  which 
gave  her  to  the  sea.     So  we  are  all  Virginians. 

Most  of  the  ship-building  of  Maine  is  now  carried  on  in  the  yards  of  IJath, 
that  business  having  followed  the  inevitable  \ii\v  by  whi(di  cai)ital  is  absorl)ing 
the  industrial  interests  of  the  country  right  and  left,  so  weeding  out  weakei' 
competition  everywhere.  Small  yards  arc;  now  maintained,  and  vessels  now 
and  then  built  only  where  local  conditions,  such  as  cheap  labor  and  low  taxes, 
]>ermit  the  builder  to  realize  a  profit;  since  in  the  purchase  of  materials,  all  of 
whicli  must  be  brought  to  his  yard,  the  advantage  of  buying  in  the  best  market 
is  clearly  with  the  large  buyer.  Then  again,  in  a  dull  season,  the  concern  with 
capital  is  al>le  to  build  vessels  on  its  own  account,  as  land  specadators  do  houses 
when  materials  are  cheapest,  and  so  ki'ej)  his  laborers  at  work,  till  the  times 
imju-ove;  while  the  individvuil  builder,  who  is  too  poor  to  run  risks,  must  let  his 
yard  grow  up  to  weeds. 

While  looking  over  the  annals  of  ship-building  in  the  United  States,  I  came 
across  an  item  of  unusual  interest  as  related  to  that  siibject.  The  Lloyds' 
register  of  last  year,  the  shipping  chronicle  of  the  world,  containtMl  the  nanu'  of 
the  barque  True  Love,  an  American  bottom  built  at  Chester,  Pennsylvania,  in 
the  year  17(54,  or  twelve  years  before  the  Declaration  of  Independence  by  the 
colonies.  She  was  certainly  afloat  in  1887,  and  still  seaAvorthy;  her  owner 
being  J.  S.  Ward,  of  London,  England.  T  doubt  if  there  be  an  older  American 
hull  in  existence. 

There  are  many  spots  about  Georgetown"  and  Arrowsi(r  TshuuU  rendered 
memorable  by  some  association  with  the  old  Indian  wars,  or  by  the  stirring 
events  of  later  times.  lUit  we  must  hasten  on  to  other  scenes,  without  doing 
more  than  allude  to  the  Kennebec  as  the  highAvay  of  war,  out  of  which  swarmed 
the  destroyers  of  many  a  fair  New  Enghuul  home,  or  to  the  vengeance  that  over- 
took them  at  last  in  their  forest  hold,  or  to  that  amazing  march  to  Quebec  which 


r  ^'1 


.,1 


i:  II 

i 


w 


194 


VnV   I'INK-TllKK   COAST. 


(Icsorvod,    -  it  did  not  'ichievc,  sucih'ss,  and  is  without  ii  parallel  in  the  military 
aiiiials  of  the  nation. 


If  i 


1  Wlu'llicr  or  mtt  WcynioiUli  (liscuvcrcd  the  Kfiiiiflicc  lias  bcou  coiiHulcriibly  iliscussed. 
There  arc  inono^iniplis  by  Joliu  MrKcen,  (JcorKf  I'rinee,  Wt-v.  Kdward  Hallard,  D.I).,  l{i'V. 
Dr.  H.  F.  De  Costa,  and  Rev.  il.  S.  Ihirrafii',  witli  otlu-rs  to  coine.  1  am  bduiid  to  say  tliat 
most  of  tlu'iii  take  an  opjiosite  vii'W  to  that  e.xpressed  hi  the  text,  yet  the  course  of  events 
seems  more  conclusive  than  the  effort  to  make  Uosier's  narrative  of  the  voyaf,'e  lit  iinixissilile 
conditions.  I  have  never  yet  seen  an  orif,'inal  narrative  of  this  sort  that  was  free  from  exa;,'- 
geration,  iire-emincMtly  the  vice  of  explorers,  or  in  which  it  would  not  be  ea.sy  to  pick  flaws. 

-  Fort  I'opham,  only  hiilf  cii!ni)leted  before  j,'ranitt'  walls  were  found  to  bo  no  defence 
against  modern  artillery,  is  of  no  particular  use  that  I  could  see  except  as  a  hi.storical  monu- 
ment. The  work  was  beiiun  uinU'r  (Jeiieral  Totten's  su])ervision  in  IWil,  after  delays  thrown 
in  the  way  by  Si'cretary  at  War  Floytl.  A  nieiuorial  stone,  with  <'iis  inscription,  has  been 
placed  within  the  walls  of  the  fort :  — 

THE   FIRST  COLONY 

ON  THE   SHORES   OF  NEW    KNOLAND 

WAS   KOtTNDEI)   HERE, 

AUGUST   l!tTH»   O.  S.   1(M)7, 

ITNDER 

(lEOROE    I'OPHAM. 

»  Sir  Humphrey  (lilbert  was  half-brother  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  Hy  Anne,  his  wife, 
daughter  of  Sir  Anthony  Auclier,  ov  Ayger,  he  left  Sir  John  Gilbert,  an  oiticer  of  reputation, 
and  light  other  sons,  all  of  whom  died  n.  p.  excej)t  Kaleigli  (iilbert,  from  whom  the  distin- 
guished British  nia,)oi'-geiieral.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  (Iilbert,  was  sixth  in  lineal  descent. 

*  Sagadahoc  means  in  Indian  the  mouth  of  the  river,  or  more  detinitely  in  this  case,  that 
part  of  the  Kennebec  below  the  junction  of  the  Androscoggin.  Colonel  William  Lithgow  gave  it 
the  former  derivation.  An  old  sea-chart  of  172.'),  in  my  possession,  shows  that  the  contiguous 
waters  of  Sheenscot  Hay  were  also  known  as  Sagadahoc.  See  also  the  Duke  of  York's  i)utent. 
rresideiit  I'opham's  letter  to  the  king  is  dated  "  At  the  Fort  of  St.  George,  in  Sagadahoc  of 
^'il•ginia,  the  thirteenth  day  of  December,  KiOT."  Chamiilain  writes  the  name  of  this  river 
Quinibeciuy.  hence  Ki'nnebec,  the  name  now  adopted  for  its  whole  course. 

^  The  Plymouth  Trading-house  patent  was  the  foundation  of  the  land-titles  for  so  much 
as  it  covered.  Contiguous  tracts  were  also  accpiired  by  purchase  of  the  Indians.  See  Baylies' 
"  I'lymouth  Colony  "  and  the  "  Additions"  by  S.  G.  Drake,  showing  these  boundaries. 

•i  A  history  of  (Jeorgetown  is  in  preparation.  There  is  an  account  by  Judge  Sullivan 
printed  in  tin;  "Massachusetts  Historical  Collections"  for  180(').  It  is  running  over  with 
errors.     (Jeorgetown  was  Sagadahoc  Island. 

'  Major  T'homas  Clark  and  Captain  Thomas  Lake,  two  merchants  of  Boston,  bought 
Arrowsic  Island  for  a  trading- station  in  l(i()l.  They  had  built  a  fort,  storehouse,  and  several 
dwellmgs  when  the  river  Indians  made  their  descent  iu  August,  KiTd,  driving  off  or  killing  all 
those  found  on  the  island,  including  Lake,  who  was  mortally  wounded.  See  Hubbard's 
account  of  this  affair.  The  south  part  of  Arrowsic  was  granted  by  Sir  E.  Andros  in  ItlTW  to 
Laurence  Dennis  and  others,  on  condition  of  their  settling  a  town  there,  to  be  called  Xewtown. 


>  ii 


'  !  hi 


--"^ 


GETTING    SEAWEED,    SHEEPSCOT    UAY. 


CHAPTER   XIV 


HOOTHBAY  AND  APOUT  THERR. 

"  Good  by  to  pain  and  care  !     I  take  mine  ease  to-day  : 
Men'  where  tiu'se  .sunny  waters  break, 
And  ripples  this  keen  breeze,  I  sliake 
All  burdens  from  the  heart,  all  weary  thoughts  away."  —  Whittier. 

"VTO  happior  experience  could  fall  to  the  travelloi''s  lot,  I  am  sure,  than  to 
-L-1  find  himself  comfortably  established  on  board  one  of  the  boats  that  ply 
the  devious  Sasanoa,  between  Bath  and  Boothbay.  It  is  the  perfection  of 
water-travel. 

To  say  that  nature,  in  one  of  her  most  capricious  moods,  has  lopped  off  a 
series  of  long  finger-like  points,  extending  far  out  to  sea  so  many  successive 
barriers  to  be  turned,  and  so  many  deep  bays  to  be  ascended  ;  and  by  so  doing 
has  opened  a  network  of  navigable  inland  water,  remote  from  the  usual  track, 
by  which  old  ocean  is  fairly  outwitted,  and  outgeneralled,  would  be  only 
putting  the  case  in  its  plainest  terms.  We  also  are  going  to  steal  a  march  on 
Father  Neptune,  as  it  were. 

195 


:| 


'      (  i 


196 


TIIK    PIXK-TREE   COAST. 


fi 


Leaving  noisy  l^ath  bcliind  ns,  we  .steam  directly  out  across  the  Kennebec, 
toward  the  opposite  sh(n'e,  into  a  chaiaiel  wliolly  hid  from  view,  till  we  have 
come  within  a  (table's  length  of  it,  when,  .suddenly,  as  if  some  magician  had 
pronounced  his  cabalistic  "  open  sesame,"  the  shores  part  before  us,  the  land 
lifts  its  gaunt  rocks  and  bending  trees  above  our  heads,  and  away  we  dart  into 

a  narrow  sti'ait  of  open  wjiter, 
much  surprised,  and  not  a  little 
elated  by  the  novelty  of  the 
thing. 

And  here  begins  one  of  the 
most  enjoyable  voj-ages  T  have 
ever  made  in  my  life. 

.Tust  as  we  have  entered  iipon 
it,  a  (pieer  old  crook-backed 
bridge,  bent  with  age  and  hard 
usage,  sjjans  the  shores,  and 
bars  the  way.  The  boat  gives 
one  short,  impatient  blast,  that 
wakes  tlu'  echoes  far  and  wide, 
and  pushes  straight  on  for  the 
obstruction.  A  woman  comes 
running  down  tht>  road,  ha.stily 
adjusts  a  long  iron  bar  with 
l)otli  hands,  and  l)v  applying  her 
back  to  it,  as  a  man  would  his 
shoulder,  tiirus  oft'  the  draw- 
bridge for  us  to  pass  through  a  space  just  large  enough  for  us  to  pass  through, 
and   no  more. 

Ex(H'pt  for  the  seaweed  deeply  fringing  the  rocky  shores  at  low-water 
mark,  we  might  suppose  ourselves  sailing  on  some  delightful  mountain  lake; 
but  here  we  get  in  perfection  the  pungent  exhalations  of  briny  ocean,  mingled 
with  the  warm,  resinous  odor  of  the  pines. 

We  are  soon  traversing  a  broader  reach  of  smooth  water,  trending  oft"  inland, 
with  miniature  capes,  reefs,  and  headlands.  This  })resently  narrows  again, 
V)etween  a  rising  crag  and  low-jutting  point  of  rocks,  to  a  width  of  not  more 
than  fifty  yards.  It  is  a  mere  split  tilled  with  a  rushing  tide.  Through  this 
contracted  channel  the  current  ])ours  with  such  force  and  swiftness  that  we  are 
carried  along  with  it.  like  a  feather  in  the  air,  to  be  launched  out  u])on  the 
quiet  water  below,  Avith  just  a  little  tensicm  of  the  nerves  to  show  that  the 
episode  is  not  without  its  excitement.  After  going  through  this  Upper  Hell 
Gate,  as  it  is  called,  all  is  smooth  and  quiet  again. 

He  was  a  bold  navigator  Avho  first  pushed  his  bark  into  this  tortuous  rapid  I 
Tf  Cham])lain  was  not  that  man.  he  is.  iit  any  rate,  the  first  to  give  us  an 
account  of  it ;  and  a  most  amusing  one  it  is.     But  let  him  tell  the  story  himself: 


Tin 


B(.UTIIHAV   AND   ABOUT   THERK. 


id; 


"We  passed  a  very  narrow  water-fall,  but  onlj"  with  great  diiRculty ;  for 
althouLfh  we  had  a  favorable  and  fresh  wind,  and  trimmed  our  sails  to  receive 
it  as  well  as  possible,  in  order  to  see  whether  we  could  not  pass  it  in  that  way, 
we  were  obliged  to  attach  a  hawser  to  some  trees  on  shore  and  all  pull  on  it. 
In  this  way  we  succeeded  in  passing  it.  The  savages  accompanying  us  carried 
their  -anoes  by  land,  being  unable  to  row  them.  T  was  greatly  surprised  by  this 
fall,  since  as  we  descended  with  the  tide  we  found  it  In  our  favor,  l)ut  contrary 
tti  us  when  we  came  to  the  fall.  But  after  we  had  passed  it.  it  descended 
as  before,  whi(di  gave  us  great  satisfaction." 


A   FRESH    BREEZE,    SIIEEPSCOT   HA'/. 


It  is  seen,  however,  that  the  force  with  whii  h  the  strong  ebb-tide  impinges 
against  both  shores  here  creates  an  eddy  which  carried  Champlain's  bark  along 
with  it  for  some  distance  into  smooth  water  agairi.  Bo  the  alleged  phenomenon 
is  easily  explained. 

We  are  soon  up  with  the  fine  promontory  called  Kockomock  Head,  a  luige 
mass  of  fore.st-shagged  rock,  thrust  down  from  tiie  utirth,  on  which  ('hamplain's 
Indian  guides  each  left  an  arrow,  as  an  ortV  ring  to  its  guardian  s})irit,  whose 
name  the  headland  Ix^ars.  The  headland  is  also  the  subject  of  a  local  legend, 
which,  under  various  aliases,  may  be  met  with  all  over  the  United  States. 


ill 

(I 

11 


ill 


i  n 


198 


TIIK    I'INK-rUEK   COAST. 


i  il 


( 
I 


This  point  forms  a  sort  of  vestibule  to  Hoekomook  Bay,  a  beautiful  sheet 
of  water  by  which  vessels  pass  up,  twenty  miles  inland,  to  Wiscasset.  That 
nearest  land,  in  the  north,  is  Phips'  Point,  tlie  supposed  birthplace  of  Sir 
William  Phips,  who  is  said,  on  one  occasion,  to  have  pointed  it  out  with  the 
rather  inflated  remarks :  "  Young  man,  it  was  ujton  that  hill  that  I  kept  sheep 
a  few  years  ago.  You  don't  know  Avhat  you  may  come  to."  Let  us  likewise 
look  to  our  muttons. 

This  endless  solitude  of  water,  Avoods,  and  rocks,  how  swiftly  it  has  borne 
us  away  from  all  thoughts  of  streets,  lanes,  and  steeples  !  As  Ave  Avind  in  and 
out  among  the  intricate  channels  betAveen  Avooded  points,  each  twist  and  turn 
takes  us  to  some  ncAV  scene,  some  neAV  suri)rise,  some  ucav  fancy.  Now  it  is  a 
solitary  Avharf  creeping  out  from  shore,  on  which  Ave  leave  a  single  ])assenger, 
or  toss  a  nuiil-bag;  now  it  maybe  a  drowsy  little  haven,  likt;  that  of  Kiggsville, 
Avhich  is  stirred  to  momentary  Avakefulness  by  our  coming,  but  dozes  off  again 
tilt'  instant  we  have  turned  aAvay. 

Emerging  at  last  from  the  labyrinth  of  Avaters,  Avhicli  our  boat  threads  like 
a  hound  recovering  the  scent,  Ave  shoot  out  upon  the  l)road  bosom  of  Sheepscot 

Pay,'  just  as  the  Ioav  sun  is  silvering  it 
with  a  didl  lustre,  and  is  gilding  the  tops 
of  the  stately  pines. 

Here  again   we  meet  the  open    ocean, 

its  regular  swell,  its  briny  odor,  its  search- 

~     ing  breezes.      Just   now    Ave  \y<'V('.  feeling 

ourselves  a  little  cramped  and  confined,  but 

here    Ave    liave   plenty    of    sea-room.      We 

(piickly   run  down   the  (retn-getown  sliore 

to  a  little  clump  of  islets  that  seem  dropped 

in  the  water,  like  eggs  in  a  nest.     These  are  the  Five  Islands.    I'retty  cottages, 

a  trim  little  steam-yacht,  gay  dresses,  brown  faces,  fluttering  handkerchiefs, 

announce  a  prosjjerous  summer  colony. 

The  form  of  these  islands  is  very  peculiar.  They  rise  from  the  Avaves  mere 
mounded  rocks,  on  Avhose  gray  backs  a  fcAv  pines  cling  Avith  Avonderful  tenacity. 
They  nod  to  us  as  if  to  say,  "You  see,  friend,  I  can  grow  where  anything  can." 
The  islets,  too,  show  exposed  faces,  just  as  the  larger  islands  do,  tlieir  scraps  of 
forest  also  retreating  back  from  diminutive  forelands,  showing  where  the  waves 
dash  fiercest. 

These  Five  Islands  command  the  Avhole  range  of  Southport  Island,  o])posite, 
on  Avhich  tln^  nu^eting-house  holds  its  spire  high  above  everything  around,  down 
to  ancient  ('ape  NcAvagen,  and  its  dangenms  (mtlying  rocks.  Tliey  also  look 
doAvn  the  Sheepscot,  far  out  to  sea.  Directly  across  the  Avater  is  Hendrick's 
Head.  Higher  up,  the  course  of  the  Sheepscot  may  be  traced  far  up  into  the 
land. 

lint  our  voyage  is  not  to  end  here.  We  are  no  sooner  clear  of  the  ITive 
Islands,  than  the  iron-gray  mass  of  Old  Seguin  looms  finely  in  the  distance. 


ONE    OF    TIIK    KIVK. 


-="SM-W 


\||...ji 


I'll*  \  *•'  \^^'  w  A 


111 


'i",  - 1 


'<    ,  4     -r'l:;i:•:^■ll 


I 


'^0,  f '  ii  i  I 


it 'I'  111 


:3 


t  ■  ;.ii 


A 

,,(i!l 


it  lit 


I 


I 


MOorHHAV    AM)    AUOUT   THKUK. 


201 


I 


Edging  now  up  to  tho  Southi)ort  shore,  wc  !ii)i)r()ach  the  entran(H>  to  Ebene- 
cook  Harbor,  an  Indian  settlement  of  long  standing,  snugly  ensconced  in  the 
side  of  tlic  isle ;  hut  instead  of  entering  it,  the  boat  rounds  to  at  a  singular 
proti'uding  rock,  traversed  by  a  wide  split,  behind  which  there  is  a  narrow  cove 
and  landing-place  known  as  Dogfish  Head. 

Pitched  among  the  retreating  rocks  and  trees  of  this  ,hore  1  saw  tents  and 
shanties,  of  most  primitives  design  ;  such,  indeed,  as  men  rear  who  are  used  to 
camps  and  marches,  or  whom  economy  has  taught  to  be  their  own  architects. 
I  should  have  called  it  the  poor  man's  ])aradise.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  bona  fide 
summer  cani]),  the  rigid  simplicity  of  whi(-h  in  all  matters  ju-rtaining  to  domes- 
tic economy  contrasted  somewhat  sharply  with  the  elaborate  and  even  luwiri- 
ous  belongings  of  its  neighbors;  yet,  nevertheless,  pots  were  bubbling  merrily 
on  the  coals,  the  men  and  women  who  stood  around  looked  hajjpy  and  con- 
tented, their  attitiules  were  as  unconstrained  as  their  little  cibins  were  homely, 
there  was  vigor  and  elasticity  to  their  steps,  and  altogethei-  it  seenu'd  as  if  they 


I 


HOOTIIIIAV     IIAIiliOK. 


were  getting  nearly  the  best  of  life  at  the  shore,  without  troubling  themsidves 
too  much  about  those  things  which  are  nnikiug  our  so-called  fashionable  cote- 
ries, we  fear,  much  too  civilized  for  comfort. 

There  is  no  better  summer-house  than  a  good  Sibley  tent,  pitched  in  a 
sheltered  spot;  but  it  should  always  have  a  floor  of  boards,  raised  above  the 
ground  a  few  inches,  and  so  trenched  round  on  the  outside  as  to  drain  off  all 
surj)lus  water.  "Keep  Dry  "  slioidd  be  the  iiuixim  of  every  cam i)er-out.  For 
a  cabin,  matched  boards  make  a  tight  roof,  which  is  the  sine  qua  non  in  wet 
weather. 

Roumling  the  northern  point  of  Southport,  our  course  now  lies  through 
Townsend  Gut,  ])ast  the  jiretty  re-sort  at  ^Nfouse  Island,  into  Boothbay  Harbor, 
where  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  weather-bound 
craft  snugly  moored  at  once.-'    In  fact,  Boothbay  is  one  of  those  natural  liar- 


WW. 


2U'J 


TIIK    riNK-TKKK    COAST, 


.'    Hi 


^11 


Ihiis.  so  i)('i'f('(!tly  i\tU'd  to  tlui  wants  of  coimiifirc,  uiid  so  a(liiiiriil)ly  pliKMvl  I'oi- 
its  \is<'s,  as  to  st'i'iii  the  result  of  iiit('lliK'"iit  |tr(»visioii  ratlici'  than  ol'  accident. 

i  iloiiht  il'  tlicrc  an!  two  tliiiif^s  in  this  worhl  iu(jr<!  like  (^ach  otiicr  lh;in  two 
New  l'aij,'Iaii(l  villaf,M's. 

IJoothhay  will  be  hotter  appreciattMl,  perhaps,  I'or  its  line  ocean    views,  its 

excellent  hnihliiij,'  sites,  and 
healthi'nl situation,  rathiu'tliaii 
lor  any  vei'y  niarketl  t'calures 
oi'  its  own.  It  mostly  skirts 
the  uneven  ed<,'('  of  an  inner 
hasiii,  —  a  s(ut  of  lind)  which 
the  larj^'cr  harhor  has  pushed 
up  int(j  the  land, —  protected 
at  the  ('ntran<'e  \)j  a  little 
ro(!ky  islet,  and  iilled  with 
deep,  smooth  sea-water.  The 
ocean  may  roar  outside;  hut 
nil;  I'uiKiv.  here  it  comes   in   like   a  lamb 

led  l)y  a  little  child. 
At  th<'  east  side,  attention  is  drawn  to  the  Ion*,',  hi^,'h,  dark-wooded  ton|.;u(^ 
ol  land,  advancing'  out  seawanl,  called  Spruce  Point,  than  which  there  is  noth- 
iuL,'  moi'c  heautii'ul  about  the  environs  ot  IJcjothbay.  Some  steps  are  bein;^^ 
taken  towaid  brin^inj,'  tiiis  shore  into  notice;  yi't  up  U)  this  tinn-.  Spruce  I'oint, 
imikes  slower  proi^ress  in  t  hat  direction  than  its  natural  charms  wouhl  seem  to 
wai'rant. 

At  the  west,  side,  t.iie  main  harbor  has  cut;  out  a  s<'coiid  basin,  ai'ound  whiidi 
a  sulmrl)  has  i^rown  up. devoted  to  the  makinj^  of  fish-oil  amhither  lish  juoducts. 
W'lieu  1  was  lieic  in  Au'^m.st,  l.SSS.  the  wliistle  of  tiie  poi'^y  farlory  sounded 
for  the  iirst  time  in  seven  yeai'S.  So  scarce  hatl  these  \  duable  lishes  become  in 
c<inse(pu'nc(!  of  the  wai'  of  ex- 
termination watted  upon  them, 
tliat  the  business  had  come  to 
a  standstill.  .\  It  ir  taking'  time 
to  I'ccupcrate,  the  porj^y  has 
come  back  a^Min  to  his  old 
haunts,  factoi'ies  have  started 
up,  and  the  slau^diter  is  Ixduf.^ 
reiicweil.  In  a  f^^ood  season, 
b(!tween  six  and  seven  hun- 
dred thousand  barrels  of  j)orf,nes  havo  lu'en  pfround  up  in  the  works  in  and 
about  I'.oothbay.      At  this  rate,  th(;  wonder  is  that  anv  should  remain  alive. 

The  outlook  from  tla^  head  of  Hoothliay  Ifarbf)r  liolds  the  sliores  f)f  South- 
port,  witli  ^fouse,  l?nriit,  and  Capitol  islands  adjoininf;.  as  far  as  the  extreme 
out-point  at  Cape  Newag(!n,  where  the  Cuckold  ro(;k  raise.s  its  warning,'  heacon. 


(?/^;c-::-.: 


STKAMlMi     HOT. 


IJOOTIIHA^     AM)   AHori     IIIKKK. 


I'o;; 


S(|iiirn'l    Isliind    lies  tlircc    miles   off  the    Imihor,  to  wliicji   it   iii:ikfs  a  sort,  of 
inv.ikuiitcr.     Then  conies  tlie  Daiiiiuiseove  K'<"i|''  'i'"'  tlnoi,  still  fartlier  out, 

"  Waves  ill  the  Mill  — llic  while- wjiil'imI  L'le.iiii 
of  seii-liilds  ill  liic  .si.ilitiiiL'  lieaill  — 
And  far-iitl  sails  wIih'ii  (lit  Ijcl'on;  tiie  HMuUiwiiKi  free." 

It  would  need  idl  of  one  siiinnier,  perliaps  even  a  winter  added,  to  do  justice? 
to  wliat  tlie  eye  hjis  traversed  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  put  pen  to  paper. 
W  li.it  history  has  to  tell,  or  the  coasts  themselves  to  show,  .i,'ives  promise  of  a 
rich  treiit  to  tlii'  studious  oliserver. 


m 


11  :U, 


Sia.Niatri   ON    illL    ALLUT. 

Let  us  iirst  ,lco  to  S(|uinel  InIhikI.  'j'lie  distance  is  shoit,  so  we  are  soon 
there.  A  covi'  is  rou.L;lily  workeil  out  oi  its  west  side,  iroiii  which  the  land 
rises  to  a  nioilerateiy  hi,!:,di  rid,i,'e,  skirted  hy  [proves  of  everj,'reeii.  The  lii;^-  trees 
are  all  ^'oiu',  iait  there  still  I'cmain  sonu!  pleasant  stretches  of  sjuiu'i'  and  lir. 
Around  this  cove,  alonj,'  this  ridt,'e,  in  the  woods,  and  hy  the  shore,  rise  a  hundred 
eottaj^es,  all  jiretty,  some  handsome,  not  a  few  mere  i'ulih\ -houses,  others  with 
loom  to  spai'i',  —  and  all  set  so  thick  to^n'tluT  that  one  looks  aiiout  him  for  the 
laiiiiliar  warniiiL' of  "  standiuLC-room  onlv." 


ra* 


'J(H 


TUK    I'INIC-TKKK    (MJAST. 


The  colony  at  Five  Islands  is  concluctcd  like  a  club ;  here  the  associated 
cottagers  may  keep  house  or  dine  out,  as  they  prefer.  Tliey  have  a  code  of 
regulations ;  they  have  their  chapel,  their  print ing-ottice,  and  their  reading- 
room;  a  tennis-court,  croquet-ground,  and  bowling-alley.  Tlunr  large  boarding- 
house  is  also  open  to  the  public.  In  short,  [found  them  excellently  equipped 
for  a  summer  campaign  against  blue-devils  in  every  form. 

I  bought  a  copy  of  their  newspaper,  called  The  Squid,  after  a  marine  aninml 
extremely  addicted  to  squirting  ink,  as  everybody  knows.  For  ;ill  that,  it  is  a 
surprisingly  clean  little  sheet,  the  chronicle  of  all  local  events,  apt  commentary 
lu're  \q)()n  the  dictum  that  the  first  thing  an  American  would  start  on  a  desert 
island  would  be  a  newspaper. 

By  crossing  the  strip  of  woods,  which  makes  such  an  agreeable  background 
for  the  parti-colored  cottages,  one  comes  out  upon  a  v/aste  of  sallow,  pie-crust 
ledges  polished  smooth  by  the  waves,  Avhich  slide  up  with  a  stealthy,  panther- 
like nu)vement,  and  fall  back  with  a  soft  purring  sound,  but  would  drag  you  off 


h   ' 


i.vri;  M;\\A(iiiN,   ritoM  ^^yl.•IKl{EL  island. 

your  feet  in  an  instant,  if  once  off  your  guard.  A  deep  crevasse  runs  across 
this  granite  terrace,  against  whose  knife-like  edges  the  sea  makes  savage  lunges. 
Not  to  niention  Kidd's  Cave,  a  hole  among  the  rocks,  would  be  unpardonable. 
Yet,  to  judge  from  what  Ave  see  and  hear,  Asmodeus  and  Captain  Kidd  must 
have  been  the  pioneer  travellers  to  these  parts,  for  no  well-regulated  resort  is 
without  its  legend  of  the  one  or  its  story  of  the  other. 

There  is  a  custom  at  Squirrel  of  which  I  would  rather  not  speak  than  give 
oifence.  It  is  this  :  The  dignitied-looking  matron  of  the  public  house  very 
graciously  bestows  on  each  departing  guest  a  parting  kiss, — a  sort  of  baiser  de 
soHvenance, — without  distinction  of  age  or  sex.  Each  visitor  thus  takes  away 
with  him  an  unfailing  reminiscence  and  a  receipt  in  full. 

A  run  over  to  Cape  Newagen  ■''  should  by  no  means  be  left  out  of  the 
traveller's  itinerary.  At  8outhport  Landing  the  mail-carrier's  wagon  will  take 
him  to  the  end  of  the  Cape.  When  he  is  there,  the  visitor  will  be  quite  ready 
to  declare  that  of  all  the  rough,  inhospitable  backbones  of  what  is  miscalled 
land.  Cape  Newagen  caps  the  climax.  It  is  sterile  to  emaciation.  The  island 
is  long  but  narrow.     Two  excavations  in  the  west  side  serve  for  harbors.     At 


HOOTllHAY    AND    AHOl  T   TIIKKK. 


2()r) 


Hrndrick's  Head,  where  there  is  a  light,  is  the  priiicijial  settlement;  on  the 
hill  behind  it  stands  the  nieetinf,'-house  we  saw  from  the  Sheepscot,  the  post- 
office,  and  two  or  three  dwellin^'-houses. 

Cape  Newagen  demands  little  at  our  hands.  A  few  unjjainted  eottag(»s  and 
hsh-houses,  a  few  idle  boats  moored  off  them,  the  ruins  of  what  were  once 
wharves  sticking  u\)  out  of  the  water,  with  mourning  seaweeds  hanging  to 
them,  exhil)it  the  business  aspect  at  a  glance.  Little  eiiidosures,  so  small  that 
a  cow  would  have  to  wait  for  the  grass  to  grow  between  meals, — a  streak  of 
rock  and  a  streak  of  sod,  —  zig-zag  among  the  cottages,  as  if  every  householder 
had  picked  out  his  lot  blindfolded,  and  no  m.ui  got  what  lie  wanted.  The 
battle  has  evidently  gone  against  this  village. 

Over  at  the  east  shore  there  is  a  pretty  large  tract  of  cleared  land,  all  of 
which  has  been  taken  up  by  the  omnivorous  speculator. 

Newagen  Harbor  is  small  but  det^p.  It  looks  quite  as  if  the  sea  had  made  a 
clean  breach  across  the  point  of  this  island,  just  as  it  has  at  Cai)e  Ned(lo(;k 
Xubble,  similarly  cutting  off  Jerry's  and  Huntei-'s  islands,  and  leaving  the  one 
(juaintly  called  the  Ark  sticking  in  the  harbor's  mouth.  The  two  dangerous 
Cuckolds  foam  and  fret  just  outside.  Names  like 
these  indicate  the  antiquity  of  the  place  itself. 

This  forsaken  little  port,  so  long  and  so  early 
frequented,  could  hardly  fail  of  being  spiced  with 
tales  tif  piratical  adventure,  though  we  are  (piite 
at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  absence  of  Captain 
Kidd's  name  from  the  local  traditions.  According 
to  these,  the  notorious  Gibbs  once  took  the  liberty 
of  stretching  a  chain  across  the  harbor,  while  he 
was  refitting  at  his  leisure.  There  was  jjrobably 
no  one  to  say  him  nay.  Another  recounts  how  a 
corsair  who  had  grown  weary  of  cutting  throats 
ran  away  from  his  ship  here.  He  was  adopted 
into  the  comnuinity,  where  he  passed  the  rest  of 
his  days,  taking  a  wife,  and  leaving  descendants 
who  are  now  among  the  living.     It  is  said  this 

man  would  sit  for  hours  in  a  natural  seat  formed  of  the  rocks  at  the  shore, 
smoking  his  pipe,  and  gazing  off  to  sea ;  and  that  during  one  of  these  visits  a 
retributive  breaker  dragged  him  down  from  his  seat  to  a  watery  grave.  So 
perish  all  pirates  !  In  proof  of  the  story,  anybody  at  Cape  Newagen  will  show 
you  Chappelle's  Chair. 

All  the  familiar  landmarks  show  grandly  here.  In  the  southwest  the 
double  dome  of  gray  Seguin  keeps  silent  watch.  We  can  look  back  as  far  as 
Small  Point,  or,  by  making  an  about-face,  can  run  the  eye  along  the  coast  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Damariscotta  and  distant  Monhegan.  But  on  this  side  the 
Damariscove  Islands  obstruct  the  view.*     This  is  glorious  indeed,  you  will  say, 


TirUNSTII.E. 


,  I, 


I' 

'■ill 


^:l 


Fm^ 


L'OO 


TlIK   I'lNK-TKKK  COAST. 


und  so  it  is;  Imt  come  hark  hen'  l»y  u\^ht  iiiid  soo  S(!guin  and  Monhegan  play- 
ing at  liidc-aiid-scck  acu'oss  IMiitonian  diiikncss  ! 

Tilt'  liistory  of  all  tlics*;  islands  begins  with  the  carliost  oconpation  of  any 
part  of  tli<!  coast  for  fishing  piirpos(!S,  and  it  hroaks  off  with  the  risu  of  jier- 
iiiani  nt  scttlcuH'iits  on  the  main  shore.  Daniarisoovo  has  a  good  harbor, 
smooth  ill  all  kinds  of  weather.  It  is  now  des«!rted.  There  is  little  to  i»e 
seen  there ;  for  tishernieji  raise  no  nioiiiiiuents. 


I'll 


*  Sheepscot  Bay  and  lliver  ^ive  ciitnincc  to  a  rc;;i(Hi  about  Wiscassct  in  wliicli  there  arts 
many  traces  of  ancient  setlleinent.  Tiie  locality  was  known  as  the  Sheepscot  Kariiis  until 
<leiiopulateil  liy  Philip's  War,  after  which  the  settlers  seem  to  iiave  thought  tliu  situation  too 
exposed  to  retiu'ii  to  it. 

-  '{"lie  early  history  of  Hootld)ay  is  quite  ol)S(  ure.  Those  settlers  liviiij^  about  heri^  were 
l)rol)ably  included  in  wiiat  was  known  as  the  Sheepscot  settlements,  until  the  lirst  and  second 
Indian  wars  caused  their  total  abandonnuMit.  A  town  was  laid  out  by  Colonel  Dunbar,  of 
Peniaquid  notoriety,  in  IT-'iO,  called  by  liini 'I'ownsend,  or  Townshcnd,  a  name  Icf^ally  super- 
seded by  th(!  i)res(?nt  one  in  lsl2.  Hoothbay  is  the  scene  of  Miss  IJlanchc  Howard's  story  of 
"One  Summer." 

"  Christopher  Levett  came  as  far  east  as  Capc^  Newagen  in  the  winter  of  l(l2.'5-24,  looking 
for  a  situation  to  his  mind.  He  says  that  nine;  shijjs  tisheil  there  in  that  year.  At  this  plact^ 
jA'vett  met  with  the  Indian  chief,  Sanioset,  whose  memoraiilt;  j^reetin;;  to  the  Pilgrims,  "  Wel- 
come, Knglishmen,"  lias  become  historical,  ileariiif^  that  (^'apci  Newaijen,  l'ema(|uid,  and 
Monhefian  were  already  taken  nj),  Levett  went,  liack  to  Portland  ami  located  his  ;;rant  there. 
I'hiiii)"s  War  depopulated  the  Xewagen  settlement  for  a  time.  A  fortilii'd  house  was  after- 
wards built  for  its  protection. 

*  Altoitether,  the  Damariscove  Islands  constitute  a  very  marked  frroup.  Damariscove 
proper  is  two  miles  long  by,  perliaps,  half  a  mile  broad.  It  is  the  largest  and  best  of  tin; 
group.  Fisherman's  Island,  next  north,  with  Kain  Islaml  (liglith<tuse)  adjoining,  lies  about 
one  mile  off  Liiiekin's  Neck,  Hoothbay.  It  is  jioor  and  forbidding.  Kast  of  this,  ranging 
also  north  and  south,  an;  the  two  Hypocrites  (formerly  Hipi)ocras),  men!  wave- washed  ledges  ; 
still  farther  east  are  the  two  White  Islands,  a  good  mark  in  sailing  from  Monhegan  to  Hooth- 
bay, as  the  (ireat  White  is  high  and  bold.  Next  south,  and  due  wist  from  Damariscove, 
conies  the  Outer  Heron;  then  I'umpkin  Island,  where  there  are  bail  ledges.  Southwest  of 
Damariscove  are  the  dangerous  Hantam  Ledgits,  marked  by  a  buoy. 

The  Sparrow  fished  at  Damariscove  in  1()22,  when  sht  brought  out  passengers  for 
riymoutli  Colony.  Bradford  says,  despondingly.  "this  boat  [from  the  Sparrow]  lirouglit 
seven  passengers  and  some  letters,  but  no  vitails,  nor  any  hope  of  any."  By  this  means, 
however,  a  boat-load  of  provisions  was  afterward  procured,  and  communication  opened.  In 
1024  the  Pilgrims  lost  a  pinnace  here.  At  this  time  it  was  a  rci;ular  re.sort  for  fisliing-shii)s, 
which  fact  first  drew  the  Pilgrims'  attention  to  this  quarter,  of  which  they  had  previ<jusly 
known  nothing  except  from  yamoset. 


ClIAl'TER   XV. 


MONIIKdAN    (».N    TIIK    SKA. 


I>IS('((Vi:iM     (HfWS. 


"No  lisli  .stir  in  our  liciiviii^  net,, 
And  tli(!  sky  in  dark,  iiiid  tlio  iiiKlit  i.s  wet ; 
And  wf  iimst,  ply  tlic  lusty  oiir, 
For  till;  tide  i.s  (.'bliiii^  from  tlic  .shore."  —  Umi.i.ik. 

jICX  miles  off  the  jtointcd  jiroinoiitory  of  IVniiKniid,  ii> 
tlui  (jpcii  occim,  two  isliiiids,  tlnj  one  only  iiioilenitcly 
liirgi',  tlu!  other  a  iii(;r(!  liinip  of  rock,  —  the  nursling', 
as  oiu!  mif^ht  say,  of  the  ;^'reater  ishiiid,  —  enier^^ti 
si(h'  Ity  si(h'  from  th(^  bottom  of  the  sea.  like  sleepinj^ 
■whales  that  li(^  wariiiiiig  their  hiij^e  Ijacks  iii  the  sun. 
We  (!aii  hardly  ^'et  rid  of  the  notion  that  the  oeiian 
will  swallow  them  up  before  our  eyes. 

Land  ten  miles  at  sea?    That  means  a  rock  of  daii- 

f^er  to  the  sailor,  in  thick  W(;ather,  or  liappily  it  may 

b(!  the  guiding  mark  for  which  two  straining  eyes  have 

searched  through  the  hjiig  wat(;hes  of  a  wintry  night. 

East  or  West,  is  there  a  sailor  but  knows   Moidiegan  ' 

as  widl  as  he  does  the  old  church  spin;  of  his  nativ(! 

village,  or  a  reader  of  history  who  has   failed  to  recognizf;  it  as  one  of  tin; 

st(!pping-stones   of   advancing   civilization  in  this  ([uarter  of  tlu;  globe  '.'      So 

true  it  is  that  a  very  little  sjxjt  of  ground  may  make;  a  larg<^  figun^  in  history. 

They  told  m(^  at  P>oothl)ay,  that  the  oidy  nuians  of  getting  otT  to  the  island 
was  by  taking  passage  in  an  open  boat,  which  carriinl  the  mail  three  times  a 
week;  that  is,  when  the  carrier  was  lucky  enough  to  niak<^  tin;  trij). 

The  voyage  proved  a  memorable  one  in  many  resp(!cts.  At  a  late  hour  of 
one  Septemb(!r  afternoon,  we  pushed  off  from  th<;  wharf.  Long  before  we  got 
clear  of  the  harbor,  the  sun  went  down  in  crimson  ])om])  behind  the  hills,  and 
with  the  gathering  dusk  a  dead  calm  bdl  u))on  the  drowsy  st!a.  A  weird  glow 
still  lingered  in  the  west.  The  harbor  lights  (hunted  about  us  lik(!  so  many 
will-o'-the-wisps  in  a  churchyard,  the  sullen  wash  of  the  waves  came  ba(;k  to  us 
from  black  and  brooding  shores,  the  stars  stared  down  out  of  the  heavens  upon 
us,  and  little  by  little  the  noises  of  the  land  died  away  in  confused  murmurings 
as  we  drifted  slowly  on  out  to  sea  with  the  tule. 

Off  Linekin's  liay  we  wen^  perihnisly  near  being  run  down  by  an  inward- 
bound  steamer,  getting  from  her,  as  she  backed  her  engines  and  sheered  off,  a 

207 


.  t : 


M'!' 


.( 


I 


'JOS 


Tin;  i'iNi:-ri{i:K  coast. 


0 


volley  of  jiluiHt'  lor  bciiij;  in  the  way.  Then*,  was  a  inimitc  or  two  of  ekxiuent 
silence,  while  we  watehed  the  steamer's  receding,'  lights,  broken  at  U-ngtli  l)y 
the  skipper,  who  said,  between  puffs,  as  he  lit  his  pipe:  ••  Vou  see,  sirs,  it's  a 
stark  caliii.  Like  as  not  it  won't  breeze  up  before  morning,'.  ^lebbee  it  will, 
niebbi'c  it  won't.  Von  see  it's  a  solium  row  out  tt»  M'niiigpfon.  V(m  sec  it's 
kinder  wet  and  nasty  like  out  hen".  I  motion  we  j;o  over  to  the  light  to  Kam 
I.sland,  where  we  ean  be  in  out  of  the  doo  and  night  air"  (he  said  nothing 
about  the  danger  he  had  just  escaped);  "then,  if  the  wind  takes  a  cant  to  the 
nor'ard  or  west'ard,  we  can  go  'long.'' 

The  soundness  of  these  views  being  incontestable,  it  was  voted  ncm  rnn  to 
pay  the  keeper  of  Ham  Island  a  visit,  tlie  more  willingly  because  his  light  had 

for  sonu'  time  sheet  an  alluring  and  com- 
passionate glow  upon  us.  and  its  red  track 
on  the  waters  «'ven  seemed  foreshadowing 
the  warmth  of  our  welcome. 

It  was  eleven  o'clock  at  night  when 
we  moored  oiir  boat  in  the  inky-black  gut 
oiH'uing  between  the  islands,  under  over- 
shadowing crags,  along  which  we  felt  our 
way  with  our  hands  to  a  friendly  shelf. 
As  wc  scrand)lcd  uj)  the  slip])erv  ledges, 
guided  by  the  faint  glimmer  of  our  boat- 
man's lantern,  and  treading  cautiously  in 
his  footsteps,  we  might  have  been  taken 
for  smugglers,  treasure-seekers,  or  any- 
thing but  honest  folk  "on  hospitable 
thoughts  intent." 

The  keeper  proved  to  be  a  bright  young 
fellow,  hardly  turned  of  thirty,  perhaj)s, 
who  had  lost  a  leg  in  the  service  of  the  lighthouse  board,  but  who,  never- 
theless, was  far  nu)re  active  on  his  one  leg  than  most  nu'u  are  on  two.  A 
snug  pension  would  seem  a  jmor  enough  return  for  being  thus  maimed  for 
life ;  yet,  strange  to  say,  the  government's  bounty  does  not  reach  this  class  of 
its  servants,  even  to  the  furnishing  of  a  Avooden  leg  or  a  ])air  of  crutches.  The 
keeper's  wife,  good  woman,  made  us  a  pot  of  tea,  ])ii)ing  hot.  and  laid  the  cloth 
for  lier  famishing  visitors,  after  which  we  Avere  shown  to  a  tidy  bedroom, 
wished  a  good  night's  rest,  and  left  to  make  the  most  of  the  opi)ortunity. 

At  four  in  the  morning,  Avhile  the  stars  Avere  still  shining,  our  boatnum, 
remorseless  as  old  Charon  himself,  called  to  us  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs  to 
turn  out.  The  Avind  Avas  light  but  fair  for  Monhegan.  So  once  more  Ave 
groped  our  Avay  out  among  the  slippery  rock-Aveed,  Avhich  threatened  at  every 
step  to  trip  us  uj),  doAvn  to  the  landing-place,  from  Avhich  Ave  presently  glided 
out  again  upon  the  open  sea. 

With  sails  and  oars  Ave  gradually  Avorked  our  Avay  up  to  the  island  by  the 


.MONIlKdAN    ISLAM). 


M(>Nni:(;.\N  on  rm:  ska. 


L'(l<» 


laiddU'  (>r  till'  tuii'iiooii.  Fur  iiif,  its  I'vcry  scirn't  nook  and  rnniny  —  i,May  li»';ullaiid 
or  tut't  ol'  woods  —  liidd  a  niystfrious  charm  lik»'  to  tliat  snrroiiiulin^'  sonii' 
aiiti<[iK!  si'a-liold  of  sonj,'  or  story  ;  for  wlu'thcr  tlu"  vikiii),'  liold  or  uirn  wlm 
sailed  with  Krobislu-r  or  I)raki'  wi-n-  tlui  first  to  set  foot  on  Monhi'ijan,  it  is  tlu* 
vanishiii},'-iti)int  down  till' liMi!,' vista  of  t inn',  the  haven  wlu'irin  we  dimly  dis- 
cern the  lirst  discovery  shi]!  at  anchor. 

As  we  come  n|)  to  it  from  the  west,  the  island  stands  up  from  the  sea,  hold, 
rohiist,  and  aj^Ljressive,  in  one  rej^'ular  mass,  its  rusty  red  rock-armort'd  siiles 
receding' liack  from  the  water  quite  like  the  hulk  of  a  ship.  Two  conspicuous 
ohjects  hreak  its  outlines.  One  is  the  lij,dithouse,  which  stands  ahout  midway 
of  the  summit  of  the  island;  the  other  lieim;  the  foLj-sifjjnal  on  Monanis,  which 
does  n  ♦^  detach  itself  from  Monhej,'an  till  we  get  closer  in. 

Hut    neither    light-  "  '  '- 

liouses    nor    t'og-trum-  r---^  .  ,     ,  > 

pets,  Ituoys  nor  bea- 
cons, can  ])ut  an  end 
to  the  long  list  of  dis- 
asters of  which  Monhe- 
gan  ha.s  been  the  cause. 


f^Ajy 


^_-:^^^J^'*^4kMdA^ 


■O-lT^i 


tlust   before    going 


FIVK    MIl.KH    AWVY. 


into  the  harbor  we  saw  a  steam-tug  coming  out  with  a  schooner  in  tow,  stri]»]teil 
of  sails  and  rigging,  and  nnich  down  by  the  head.  She  was  so  full  of  water 
that  she  refused  to  nse  upon  the  swtdl  as  she  met  it,  but  lurched  and  tlouiulcred 
on  after  the  tug  like  a  balky  horse  hit(died  to  a  wagon-tail.  A  disiuantled 
wreck  is  always  a  pitiful  object.  This  one  had  gone  on  the  rocks  of  Lobster 
I'oint  in  a  dense  fog,  had  been  deserted  by  her  cowardly  crew,  who  cut  the 
only  boat  adrift  and  made  otf  with  it,  and  was  finally  got  afloat  and  brought 
rouiiil  into  the  harbor  by  the  islanders,  who  look  mton  a  wreck  as  they  would 
upon  a  big  haul  of  mackerel.  The  fog-horn  was  going  at  the  time,  but  the 
nuister  was  like  the  man  who  heard  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  and  took  not 
warning. 

In  this  ])icture  and  its  story  are  comprised  one  ])hase,  at  least,  of  life  as  it 
is  known  to  the  men  of  Moidu'gau. 

Monanis  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  a  bald  rock,  ehi]ti)ed  off  at  the  sides, 
rising  u^)  sheer  and  stark  from  the  water's  edge.  Couhl  we  inuigine  a  giant 
hammering  away'  at  it  in  the  rough,  until  he  had  wrought  out  some  semblance 
to  roundness  and  syinmetry,  what  we  see  would  represent  the  crnd(>  result. 
Underneath  its  battered  sides,  snatehed  as  it  were  from  tlu'  sea,  nestles  the 
tiny  harbor  —  such  a  retreat,  for  instance,  as  Ariel  tells  I'rospero  he  has  hid 
away  the  king's  ship  in  — 

"  the  deep  nook  where  once 
Thou  caHMst  nie  uj)  at  niitlniuht,  to  fetch  dew 
From  the  .still  vex'd  Hernioothes :  there  slie's  hid." 


II 


i!l1£>^ 


M. 


1 

■ ' 

■      1 

;| 

(      ' 

";  ; 

•>     y 

a 

\ 

1 

210 


THE  PINE-THEE   COAST. 


This  liiulnir  lies  all  open  to  the  southwest,  but  is  nearly  walled  in  at  the 
upper  end  by  a  high  and  dry  I'-iige,  thrusi  across  it  from  Monanis,  so  as  barely 


I  ; 


IJ 


A    MONIIEOAN    I-AD. 


to  leave  room  for  boats  to  i)ass  in  and  out  this  way.     They  call  it  Smutty  Nose 
here.     Upon  this  natural  breakwater  there  is  a  signal-mast,  which  persistently 


MONIIEGAN  ON  THE   SEA. 


211 


refuses  to  stand  up  straight,  though  it  does  make  a  picturesque  addiiiion  to  the 
ensemble  of  the  harbor,  which,  in  spite  of  its  having  pro ,  ed  the  salvation  of 
many  a  big  ship,  is  really  so  diminutive  as  to  give  you  t::e  idea  of  a  basinful  of 
water  dipped  uj)  from  the  ocean. 

As  we  forged  slowly  along,  among  the  fleet  of  idle  boats  moored  in  mid- 
harbor,  all  the  settlement  of  JMonhegan,  and  no  small  part  of  its  inhabitants, 
came  under  close  inspection.  It  is  all  here,  by  the  shore  of  the  harbor.  ( )ne 
can  count  all  the  houses,  see  what  is  going  on  out  of  doors,  take  note  of  sundry 
evidences  of  thrift  or  decay,  trace  the  path  leading  u})  to  the  lighthouse  on  the 
hill,  or  dive  down  into  the  hollows  beyond,  which  make  an  oasis  in  this  ocean 
solitude. 

The  first  step  taken  on  the  little  beach  inducts  one  into  the  life  of  Mon- 
hegan  as  it  was  centuries  ago,  as  it  is  to-  lay,  and  as  it  is  likely  to  be  in  the 
time  to  come.  These  same  grimy  dressing-stands,  all  this  nameless  litter  of 
seafaring  gear,  this  very  heap  of  decaying  fish-offal,  might  have  been  seen  here 
in  this  very  spot  two  hundred  years  ago.  And  the  men  are  as  like  their  fathers 
as  like  can  be. 

The  beach  itself  is  formed  of  about  equal  parts  of  sand,  shells,  and  fish- 
bones. One  man  ventured  the  assertion  that  if  all  the  fish-bones  that  had 
been  thrown  into  the  harbor  could  be  gathered  together  into  a  heap,  they  would 
reach  as  high  as  !Monanis  —  not  so  incredible  ,'.  statement  as  it  would  at  first 
seem,  since  they  have  been  cutting  up  fish  here  ond  tossing  the  bont's  about  for 
some  two  hundred  and  eighty  years  or  more.  But  one  needs  constantly  to  re- 
mind himself  that  gold  has  no  smell,  since  the  stench  is  so  unbearable,  all  up  and 
down  the  shore,  as  to  divest  fish  and  men  of  all  manner  of  romance  whatsoever. 

Monhegan  fish  are,  however,  highly  esteemed  on  account  of  the  care  taken 
in  curing  them,  and  that  is  the  whole  secret  of  making  good  fish.  If  there  be 
any  knack  about  it,  these  island  men  ought  surely  to  have  mastered  it ;  for  they 
have  done  nothing  but  catch  fish,  cure  fish,  and  pack  fish  ever  since  they  were 
big  enough  to  handle  an  oar  or  east  a  line. 

The  men  who  gathered  about  us  ai  the  landing  were  mostly  past  middle 
age,  —  gray-haired,  gray-bearded  men.  A  good  many  people  seeni  to  think 
thiit  by  coming  a  hundred  miles  more  or  less  they  mus<^  see  a  very  ditferent 
order  of  human  beings.  They  would  suffer  disappointment  at  ^lonhegan. 
I  was  about  to  ask,  however,  "  Where  are  your  young  men  ?  "  when  I  learned 
that  the  population  of  the  island  was  steadily  decreasing  with  the  falling  off  of 
its  fisheries.  And  there  being  absolutely  nothing  else  to  do  but  follow  fishing 
for  a  living,  the  law  of  demand  and  supply  hns  worked  out  its  inevitable 
results  in  diminishing  the  number  of  inhabitants  from  133  persons  in  18(S() 
to  101  at  the  present  time. 

I  soon  saw  that  a  ripple  of  suppressed  excitement  was  disturbing  the 
wonted  calm.  It  was  on  the  beach,  in  the  fish-In nises,  and  had  even  made  its 
way  into  the  back  kitchens.  It  seemed  that  the  captain  of  the  wrecked  coaster 
we  had  seen  being  towed  into  port  was  treating  the  islanders  unhandsomely  in 


FHi 


212 


rilK    I'lNE-TREE   COAST. 


It 
'1:    ' 

t 


h 


i 

1                      i 

f 

the  matter  of  salvage,  from  their  point  of  view,  he  having  liehl  out  three  days 
for  a  trifle  of  twenty-five  dollars,  or  some  such  matter,  which  they  demanded 
over  and  above  what  he  was  willing  to  j)ay.  One  man  in  particular  seenxed 
much  i)ut  out  about  it.  He  very  bluntly  declared,  in  my  hearing,  that  he 
"  lioped  another  vessel  never'd  get  ashore  on  Monhegan."  The  bystanders,  on 
whom  this  thoughtless  speech  made  a  visible  impression,  took  him  sharj)ly  ixp 
tor  it;  but  he  stood  his  ground,  obstinately,  though  I  believe  he  did  subse- 
<iuently  qualify  the  offensive  remark  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  hoped  the  owners 
would  be  aboard  of  her  when  she  struck. 

After  dinner  I  saw  tlie  island  men  holding  an  open-air  council  over  the 
matter,  on  the  beach.  As  each  took  the  attitude  that  suited  him  best,  they 
formed  a  very  picturescpie  group  indeed.  Two  or  three  did  all  the  talking. 
The  one  thing  to  be  remarked  was  that  the  interest  of  one  was  the  interest  of 
all.  Upon  all  questions  alfecting  them  as  a  body  the  islanders  are  a  unit.  A 
decision  being  reached,  the  council  broke  up.  The  schooner's  sails,  utensils,  and 
furniture,  from  a  frying-pan  to  a  jack-[)lane,  were  all  (\arried  down  to  a  scinc^- 
boat,  ]»ut  on  board,  and  rowed  off  to  the  scow  that  had  been  waiting  for  them. 
I  don't  believe  that  a  single  article  was  missing 

The  dingy,  ill-favored  look  of  the  fish-houses,  crowding  the  shore,  is  a  little 
enlivened  by  the  pale  yellow  lichens  encrusting  them.  Those  growing  to  the 
rocks  are  of  a  beautiful  bright  orange  color.  One  has  to  jiick  his  way  out 
among  splitting-stands,  lobster-crates,  skilTs,  buoys,  spare  spars,  nets,  and  kil- 
ligs  to  come  at  the  OAvners'  cottages  at  the  back,  where  the  pi(^ture  is  agriicably 
reversed;  for  though  no  man  seems  to  have  builded  better  than  his  neigld)or,  if 
we  except  the  large,  square  Trefethren  mansion,  all  the  houses  look  neat,  and 
some  even  pretty,  with  their  bit  of  grass,  their  (dimbing  posies  at  the  doors,  or 
their  handful  of  nasturtiums  under  the  windows.  The  women-folk  look  as  neat 
as  wax  in  their  calico  gowns  and  sunbonnets,  and  their  modest  demeanor 
announces  that  society  rests  on  no  insecure  foundation  here.  Like  most  people 
who  live  outside  the  great  world,  they  are  apt  to  be  just  a  trifle  inquisitive 
about  strangers ;  so  those  who  may  go  to  Monhegan  hereafter  may  as  well 
understand  that  it  is  no  place  to  carry  hauteur  or  reserve.  One  may  ask  as 
many  questions  as  one  likes,  but  should  be  prepared  to  answer  two  for  one  in 
return. 

There  is  no  aristocracy,  no  middle  class,  no  understratum  of  society.  The 
people  seem  more  like  one  largf^  family  or  clan  than  anything  else.  They 
doubtless  have  their  family  quarrels,  with  which  it  would  be  as  unwise  for  an 
outsider  to  meddle  as  with  family  (juarrels  in  general.  AVhere  one  man  sells 
his  fish  all  the  rest  sell  theirs.  Share  and  share  alike  seems  to  be  their  uiiiiiue 
motto  in  all  business  concerns.  Indeed,  they  seem  to  have  imbibi'd  st)mething 
of  the  spirit  of  modern  socialism,  if  they  do  not  practise  all  its  vagaries,  and 
this  too  without  any  teaching  whatever. 

There  is  a  green  lane  running  between  the  cottages ;  but  if  you  want  to  get 
into  it  or  out  of  it  from  the  harbor,  you  must  let  down  somebody's  bars,  or  pass 


MONIIEUAN   <JN   THE    SEA. 


L'l.J 


through  somebody's  gate.  Grass  Umd  is  far  too  vahiable  to  be  squandered  ui)on 
highways.  And  taxes  must  be  correspondingly  light.  The  feeling  that  yon 
are  committing  a  trespass  so  soon  wears  away,  however,  that  in  spite  of  its 
novelty  one  grows  bolder  every  hour  of  one's  stay. 

This  one  thoroughfare  goes  as  far  as  the  lighthouse,  and  no  farther.  As 
there  are  neither  horses  nor  carriage^  on  the  island,  it  cannot  with  entire  pro- 
priety be  called  a  road  ;  and  it  plainly  will  never  be  a  street.  It  suttietis,  how- 
ever, for  all  the  wants  of  the  islanders.  To  make  a  circuit  of  the  islaiul  afoot, 
one  must  follow  the  sheep-paths  till  he  finds  that  there  is  no  need  of  a  guide. 

( )ver  toward  the  harbor  mouth  there  is  a  neat  little  chapel,  built  of  wood, 
in  which  occasional  services  are  held,  there  being  no  settled  minister  here. 
Though  so  few  in  number,  I  understand  that  the  islanders  are  as  much  divided 
as  to  (.-reeds  as  their  brethren  of  the  mainland.  The  chapel,  therefore,  Avas 
dedicated  by  the  generous  I'hiladelphian,  who  gave  it,  to  the  use  of  all  Chris- 
tian sects  alike.  Under  no  circumstances  Avill  the  islanders  permit  its  use  for 
any  other  purpose  than  the  wen-ship  of  God.  Concerts,  fjiirs,  readings  —  every- 
thing, indeed,  of  a  secular  character  —  are  rigidly  excluded,  as  so  many  infrac- 
tions of  the  contract. 

As  there  is  not  much  else  to  see  about  the  harl)or,  we  will  take  a  stroll  up  to 
the  lighthouse  on  tne  hill.  Among  the  few  houses  that  begin  the  ascent  with 
us  is  the  one  schoolhouse  of  the  island.  A  little  farther  on,  we  come  to  its 
solitary  graveyard, —  a  scpuire  plot  of  ground,  enclosed  by  white  palings,  showing 
a  score  of  graves  marked  only  with  sucdi  rough  head  and  foot  stones  as  could 
be  picked  up  at  random.  Not  a  line  or  a  letter  to  tell  who  the  occui)ants  are. 
Others  have  their  memorials,  it  is  true,  but  these  are  the  nameless,  the  for- 
gotten ones.  Nowhere  do  the  dead  go  so  (piickly.  There  are  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  unmarked  graves  in  New  England.  And  the  ])ity  of  it  is,  that  a 
great  deal  of  history  is  forever  buried  in  them.  (Jur  laws  jn-ovich'  for  the  burial 
of  a  pauper,  biit  stop  there.  They  should  go  further.  They  should  re(piire  the 
marking  of  every  grave  by  a  suitable  headstone,  and  make  wilful  neglect  to  com- 
ply with  the  provision  the  subject  of  a  certain  penalty.  And  every  numicipality 
in  the  land  should  be  held  resi)onsible  for  the  execution  of  this  law. 

Though  placed  in  a  spot  (pute  remote  from  the  dash  and  roar  of  the  sea, 
Monhegan  Light  stands  on  the  most  commanding  ground  of  the  ishmd.  There 
is  not  a  bit  of  that  romance  altout  it,  tlun-efore,  that  is  usiudly  associated  with 
such  structures.  It  is  a  solidly  built,  circular  tower  of  granite,  the  lantern 
being  raised  one  Imndred  and  seventy-tive  feet  above  sea  level.  The  light  is  a 
revolving  one  of  great  ])ower.  In  a  clear  night  it  shows  a  corona  of  da/./.ling 
brilliancy,  not  the  sprawling  flame  we  are  so  accustomed  to  seeing  rei)resciitt'(l 
in  pictures.  In  a  thick  night  it  i)ierces  through  tlie  blackest  darkness,  like  a 
meteor,  and  with  "White  Island,  Boon  Island,  Half- Way  Ro(!k,  Seguin,  Matini- 
cus,  and  Mount  Desert  Rock,  so  plucks  safety  from  danger  that  ships  now  shai)e 
their  course  along  the  coast  as  well  by  night  as  by  day.  Seguin  is  visible  in 
the  Ave.st,  Matinicus  Rock  at  the  east,  each  being  about  twenty  miles  distant. 


'M'' 


'l^ 


\v4 


:  1 


t' 


214 


TIIK    riNK-THKK   f'()AST. 


I  had  ^oiic  IK)  f.'irtlifr  when  tlit;  I'rcsliciiiii)^  ciistcrly  bn-czc  hrouglil,  down 
ii]i()ii  us  tlic  foL,',  —  its  iiis('])iir;il)l(M'()mj)a,iii()ii  in  tliislatiimlc  It  had  hfcii  liirkint( 
(»iitsi(h',  a,  h»iiK  wall  of  '^vny,  all  the  iiioniiii^'.  V'cry  curious  it  was  to  see  tht; 
exasperating'  va])()r  streaming'  iicross  the  islaiwl  as  noiselessly  as  one  ot  <)ssi;in"s 
ffhostly  armies  in  full  flight,  with  the  sun  shininj,'  out  serene  and  hrij^ht  over- 
heiid.     The  t'o},'-horn  on  Moniuiis  soon  Itej^^an  its  lu;^nihrious  hrayin^'.     TIhtc  was 

no  help  for  it  hut  to  sit  down  dl  the  I'o^- 
had  lilown  over,  which  it  fortunat(dy  <lid  in 
the  course  of  half  an  hour  luoi'e. 

I  can  ^ive  a  protile  of  Monheifan  in 
a  very  few  words.  Vou  lii'st  ascend  tlie 
hill  on  the  summit  of  whi(di  the  ]it,dit- 
house  stands;  then  go  down  into  a  hollow; 
and  then  ascend  again  some  iieights  at  the 
south  shore.  This  hollow  is  a  (h'c])  valley 
driven  across  the  centre  <d'  the  island. 
These  heights  are  the  brow  of  an  eiioinious 
headland  that  hjoks  out  over  the  l)road 
Atlantic. 

A    walk   across  tlie  valley  to  the  south 
shore,  shoi't  as  it.  is,  is   (putting   the  coast 
for  the  couid,ry,    for  the   time  heing.      No 
sound,    no    suggestion  of   the  sc;i,  rcaidies 
you  thei'c.     A  hroken  rim  of  t  ipprd-u])  land 
runs  round  the  coast.       'I'hc  hottoni  of  tlic 
crater-like   liasin   around  you    is  a  nioi'ass 
grown    U|)   witii  weird,   moss-hearde(l   ever- 
greens.       When    you    have    ascended     the 
oii|)osite  siih',  you  tiiid  it  shove(l  higii  up  aixive  the  northei'ii  siiore,  like  all   the 
t  xposed  faces  of  all  tiie  headlands  of  this  I'cmai'kahh'  coast.      Ilow  much   land 
was  washed  away  heforethis  result  came  .d)out  is  a  |U'ol)lem  yet  unsolved. 

The  thin  soil  affords  pasturage  for  a  few  sheep.  \'our  true  tisherman  <loes 
not  take  kindly  to  farnung,  not  so  mutdi  for  want  ol'  time,  hecause  he  spends 
davs  and  weeks  in  idh'Uess.  as  for  the  reason  tliat,  lie  considers  farnung  and 
lishing  ipiitc  as  iiicompat  iiiie  as  he  would  the  avocations  of  soldier  and  saihir. 
Fogs,  calms,  storms,  scarcity,  consumer  an  uinhie  proportion  of  the  lislierman's 
lifetime,  it,  is  true  his  labor  is  always  Iiard,  often  ha/.anh)us.  but  he  can  hardly 
be.  (dassed,  1  think,  as  a  laborer,  among  the  t(jih'rs  of  our  great  citit.'s,  with  whom 
every  day  is  a  working  day. 

After  clind)ing  the  short  slope,  to  the  crumbling  and  overhanging  edge  of 
the  headland,  one  step  luore  Would  send  you  headlong  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
d(»wn  among  the  bi'cakeis.  ^'ou  are  standing  upon  tht;  lirow  of  the  great  (diff 
known  on  the  island  as  W'hitt!   Head.     So  swift  is  the  tlescent  that  I  could  not 


Cl.U'l'S    AT    MONMKdAN. 


^^  »-'' j.rvHJ' '*>".»  ^.V   ' 


■>^- 


iii.ri;-riMiiiN(J. 


1  ^ 


m 


f  '    II 


i 


;  Si! 


M0NI1E(JAX    OX   TIIK   SEA. 


217 


KOCK    IXSCRIPTIOX,    MONAXI8. 


see  to  the  bottom  even  by  leaning  oat  over  the  brink  of  the  precipice.  thont,'h 
I  could  hear  the  breakers  roaring  down  there  among  the  fallen  rocks. 

Then  I  went  back  to  hear  nu'ii  talking  about  the  price  of  mackerel. 

The  visitor  to  tliese  cliffs  should  be  warned  against  going  too  near  the  brink, 
as  deep  cracks  have  opened  in  several  places  at  the  surface,  possibly  by  the 
action  of  frost,  possibly  through  the  undermining  of  the  clift"  by  the  sea. 

Monanis  should  be  visited  on  account  of  the  remarkable  rock  inscription 
there,  gen(U'ally  attributed  to  the  Northmen  or  the  devil. 

I  theretbre  took  a  wherry  across  the  harbor,  (dind)ed  the  long  flight  of  stairs 
by  which  acc^ess  to  tlie  fog-stati(ni  is  gained,  and  aftt'r  a  short  seartdi  found  the 
inscription  rock  at  the  side  of  a  deep  gully,  that  may  have  been  ploughed  out 
of  the  summit  of  the  isle,  when  the  ice  pushed  across  it,  ages  ago. 

The  exposed  face  of  this  rock  is 
deeply  pitted  by  the  action  of  water 
and  frost.  Such  as  they  are,  the 
markings  cover  a  space  of  about 
forty-five  inches  long,  by  six  and  a 
half  in  breadth.-  All  are  cuneiform, 
or  wedge-shaped.  WithtriHing  devia- 
tion, they  appear  to  be  rude  attempts  to  form  the  capital  letter  •'  N  "  in  con- 
tinuous succession,  and  to  all  appearance  are  as  legible  to-day  as  when  tirst 
made.  Assuming  them  to  be  the  work  of  hammer  and  chisel,  which  their 
regular  form  and  depth  of  incision  would  seem  to  indicate,  we  can  only  guess 
what  the  unknown  workman's  purpose  may  have  been,  —  whether  it  embodied 
a  story  or  conveyed  a  direction, — since  no  one  would  be  likely  to  perform 
so  much  manual  labor  without  a  purjiose.  At  one  time  I  thought  it  possil)le 
that  some  one  of  the  early  discoverers  might  have  taken  the  latitude  and  longi- 
tude of  the  island  from  this  spot ;  at  another,  that  pirates  miglit  have  concealed 
treasure  near  it.  lUit  these  are  mere  conjectures.  Nobody  has  been  able  to 
make  any  intelligiblt?  record  out  of  these  characters.  Danish  antiquaries  have 
puzzled  over  them  in  vain.  There  is  no  evidence  whatever  that  a  Northman 
ever  set  foot  on  Monhegan,  and  tradition  is  silent.  We  can  decipher  Egyi)tian 
hieroglyphics,  but  not  these. 

Without  exception,  the  islanders  themselves  scout  the  idea  that  hnnum 
hands  had  anything  to  do  with  making  these  characters.  In  this  they  inv 
at  least  honest.  What  they  may  say  when  IMonhegan  gets  to  be  a  summer 
resort  is  a  qiiite  different  matter.  One  man  actually  tried  to  dissuade  me  from 
going  over  to  Monanis,  on  the  ground  that  it  would  be  a  pure  waste  of  time. 
He  himself  had  been  sitting  on  the  beach  for  a  full  hour,  whittling.  Another 
said  that  some  of  the  markings  had  been  made  witliin  his  memory.  The 
consensus  of  opinion  among  them  seemed  to  favor  the  operation  of  purely 
natural  causes.  But  if  water  has  really  done  this  work,  it  has  done  it  so  well 
that  one  would  hardly  know  where  to  look  for  a  greater  curiosity  of  its 
kind;   nor  would  the  whole  conclave   of  Monhegan  philosophers   be  able   to 


I      i 


218 


TIIK   I'LNE-TUEE   COAST. 


li 


I'm 


Imh 


1 


convince   one  that  these  despised  characters  do  not  contain  a  riddle  yet  to 
be  solved. 

Monhegan  is  known  to  have  been  the  resort  or  asylum  for  pirates,  smug- 
glers, or  mutineers  centuries  ago.  If  what  we  do  not  know  about  it  could  be 
uneartlied,  what  an  interesting  chapter  it  would  make  ! 

Mouanis  makes  an  excellent  historical  observatory,  never  so  fully  appreciated 
as  when  one  has  looked  off  over  the  leagues  of  water  intervening  between  him 
and  the  distant  coast. 

The  good  ship  Archangel,  George  "Weymouth,  comm.ander,  out  of  England 
since  Easter  Sunday,  1()()5,  clewed  up  her  sails,  and  let  go  her  anchor  under 
Moidiegan  on  the  18th  day  of  IVIay, — a  day  now  memorable  in  the  annals  of 
Maine.  AVeymouth  came  on  shore,  looked  over  the  island,  and  Avas  so  Avell 
pleased  with  it  that  he  called  it  Saint  George,  after  the  tutelary  saint  of  Eng- 
land. Landward,  ])erhaps  midway  between  his  ship  and  the  shore,  he  saw  a 
cluster  of  islands  lying  in  the  estuary  of  what  seemed  either  a  river  or  arm  of 

the  sea.  Through  this  opening  in  the  coast  he 
could  look  up  to  where  the  view  was  bounded 
by  what  he  took  to  be  high  mountains  —  lofty, 
indeed,  as  compared  with  the  low  coast  —  strik- 
ing as  the  landmark  which  no  sailor  could  mis- 
take for  anything  else.  AVe  can  see  all  this  as 
plainly  from  Monanis  as  Weymouth  did. 

The  next  day  Weymouth  worked  the  A^'ch- 
angel  up  to  the  islands  he  had  discovered  inshore, 
as  he  desired  to  bring  his  ship  into  some  harbor 
more  convenient  to  the  main  ;  not  because  there 
was  no  good  anchorage  at  Monhegan,  as  the 
E  elation  has  it.  This  was  found  to  the  leew^ard 
of  the  larger  island  of  the  group.  As  it  was 
Whitsuntide,  Weymouth  named  it  Pentecost 
Harbor,  out  of  thankfulness,  it  would  seem,  that 
God  had  fixed  the  beginning  and  end  of  so 
prosperous  a  voyage  on  two  great  festival  days 
Neither  name  has  survived,  though  his  anchorage 


OLD-TIME    KISHEK.MAN. 


of  the  Christian  Church. 

now  goes  by  the  name  of  Saint  George's  Harbor.^ 

Monhegan  was  thus  the  island-postern  through  which  Weymouth  passed  to 
his  new  world. 

I  looked  in  at  the  signal-station.  Everybody  does.  The  keeper  solemnly 
averred  that  he  had  had  nothing  to  wet  his  whistle  with  all  that  morning, 
though  everything  was  kept  ready  for  instant  action.  It  is  written  in  the  book 
of  the  prophet  Ezekiel  that  "if  the  people  of  the  land  take  a  man  of  their 
coasts  and  set  him  for  a  watchman,"  he  shall  forewarn  them  of  the  coming 
of  the  sword.  The  figure  would  not  lose  its  appropriateness  if  applied  to  the 
coming  of  the  storm. 


;  1 


MONHEGAN  ON   THE   SEA. 


219 


•  After  the  visits  of  Weymouth  and  Popham,  1005  and  1(107,  there  is  a  Wank  of  six  years  ; 
but  we  know  from  Sniitii,  who  was  at  Mouhegan  in  1((14,  tliat  an  Enf,'lish  sliip  was  tlien  tish- 
ing  aero.ss  at  renKKjuid,  "liavinj,'  many  years  used  only  tiiat  jjort."'  Tliis  shii)  belon^ifd  to 
Sir  Francis  ropliam,  one  of  tlie  Kennebec  adventurers,  wlio  was  profiting  by  tlie  knowledge 
gained  in  that  unlucky  enterjirise,  that  "the  main  staple  from  hence  to  be  extracted  is  fish," 
as  Smith  says.  Two  years  later  Smith  gives  us  his  map,  with  Monhegan  laid  down  as  Harty 
Isle.  From  this  tinu'  onward  Monhegan  was  more  or  less  visited  by  fisliing-ships,  coming 
direct  from  England,  or  calling  on  their  way  home  from  Virginia,  to  occupy  tlie  island  while 
making  their  cargoes  of  fish,  trading  with  the  natives,  and  getting  in  wood  and  wafer.  When 
Sam o.set  visited  the  Pilgrims,  at  Plymouth,  in  .March,  l(i20,  he  could  give  the  names  of  the 
ma.sters  wiio  were  in  the  habit  of  fre(pienting  Monhegan  or  its  vicinity.  Though  permanent 
occupation  dates  only  from  its  sale  to  Abraham  Jennens,  in  l(i22.  a  rendezvous  thus  existed, 
holding  a  close  relation  to  tlu!  Pilgrim  colony  and  its  fortunes.  Jeiuiens  sold  out  in  l(i2(i  to 
Robert  Aldworth  and  flyles  Elbridge,  merchants  of  IJri.stol,  England,  for  t'-'M).  They  subsc- 
(luently  perfevled  their  title  by  procuring  a  patent  (ItiSl-JW)  to  Peinaipiid,  which  included 
lioth  Monhegan  and  Damariscove.  Aldworth  had  been  a  furtherer  of  I'ring's  voyage.  It  is 
curious  to  learn  that  when  this  sale  became  known  at  Plymouth,  Bradford  and  Winslow  came 
to  Monhegan  in  an  open  boat,  thinking  to  buy  Jennens'  trading  goods  at  a  bargain.  Besides 
a  "  parcel  of  goats,"  they  took  away  goods  to  the  value  of  £400  sterling.  Bradford  sjx'aks  of 
this  sale  as  the  breaking  up  of  the  plantation  at  Moidiegan.  Abraham  Shurte,  the  agent  for 
Aldworth  and  Elbridge,  made  his  home  at  remaiiuid  either  then  or  soon  after;  so  that  with 
the  settlements  now  springing  up  on  the  mainland  Moidiegan  lost  much  of  its  old  prestige. 
When,  in  1()7(>,  the  Indians  fell  upon  the  Kennebec  settlements,  the  inhabitants,  living  east  of 
that  river,  fled  first  to  the  outlying  islands,  and  next  to  the  west  for  safety.  Monhegan  was 
then  deserted,  but  occupied  at  the  close  of  the  war.  It  was  at  one  time  called  Southack's 
Island,  probably  for  Cyprian  Southack,  of  Boston. 

2  The  inscription  is  printed  in  Dcs  Antiquities  ilu  Xord  for  May,  1850. 

3  Saint  George's  Islands  lie  east  by  north  about  six  miles  from  Monhegan.  Allen's, 
Burnt,  and  Benner's,  the  outermost,  are  the  ones  usually  calh^d  The  (Jeorges.  Two  bad 
ledges,  the  "Old  Man"  and  "Old  Wtmian,"  lie  due  .south  of  Allen's  Island,  on  which 
Weymouth  is  supposed  to  have  set  up  his  cross.  George's  Harbor  opens  at  the  north  of 
Allen's  Island,  between  this  island,  Benner's,  and  Davis'  Island. 

As  Weymouth  remained  in  this  vicinity  a  whole  month  wanting  a  day  (May  17  to  June 
16),  there  can  be  little  doubt,  we  think,  of  his  having  explored  the  Saint  George's  sufficiently  to 
ascertain  that  it  was  in  no  sense  a  great  river.    This  month  was  spent  in  searching  the  coasts. 


; 

n  : 


'  il 


CHAITEK   XVI. 


I'KMAQUII)    THK    KOKTKKMS. 


ill 


"I  would  not  bu  a  ruritan,  tho'  ho 
Can  i)rciu'li  two  hours,  anil  yet  his  sermon  be 
But  hiilf  a  ([uartcr  long."  — C'o\vi,i;v. 


'K  iwv  still  climbing  tlic  coast.  Our  next 
st()ppiiig-i)la('c  will  be  IVnuuiuid,  that  famous 
promontory  of  colonial  tinu's,  that  thorn  in 
the  side  of  our  French  rivals,  which  so  well 
illustrates  the  changing  aspects  of  political 
power. 

After  passing  the  i)retty  summer  settle- 
ment at  Ocean  I'oint,  the  always  beautiful 
J)amariscotta'  comes  down  out  of  sonui  large 
fresh-water  ponds  to  mingle  with  the  inflow- 
ing tide.  Sonu^  dozen  miles  up.  at  the  head 
of  the  tide,  are  the  twin  villages  of  Newcastle  and  Damarist^otta,  both  old 
settlements.^  They  afford  nu)st  iuteresting  ground  on  account  of  the  extensive 
shell-heaps  found  in  the  neighborhood,  which  it  nuist  have  taken  centtiries  to 
accumulate,  and  which  bear  witness  to  the  fixed  habits  of  the  aboriginal  tribes, 
with  whom  the  summer  was  a  season  of  feasting,  jjlenty,  and  relaxation. 

To  think  of  those  lazy  vagabonds  with  whom  to  work  was  a  crime,  regaling 
themselves,  like  the  epicurean  gods,  upon  oysters  of  such  size,  itlumpness,  and 
delicacy  of  flavor  as  these  shells  go  to  show,  —  shells  of  eight  and  even  ten 
inches  in  length,  — and  tliat  without  either  salt  or  pepper  to  give  them  a  relish, 
almost  reconciles  us  to  the  doom  of  the  savage  depredator  himself  I  l>ut  if  to 
his  uncontrollable  habit  of  gluttony  we  owe  the  extinction  of  this  delicious 
bivalve,  as  would  seem  only  too  probable,  we  (^an  regret  the  oyster,  but  never 
forgive  the  Indian. 

The  Damariscotta  betrays  the  same  wayward  propensity  to  stray  out  of  its 
fixed  course  so  characteristic  of  all  these  tidal  streams  of  Maine.  It  is  forever 
pushing  and  pressing  up  against  its  banks,  as  if  in  search  of  some  secret  egress 
through  which  it  may  sli])  off  unperceived. 

Christmas  Cove  is  a  pretty  nook  worked  out  of  the  side  of  Rutherford's 
Island  in  this  way.  The  profusion  of  green  here  is  a  delightful  resting-place 
for  the  eye  to  linger  upon ;  but  as  every  medal  has  its  reverse,  so  just  below 
this   island  there  is  a  weird  stretch  of  black.  hum))ba(^ked  ledges,  with  deep 


rKMAgrii)  riiK  foim'kkss. 


"21 


Tin;    OVSTKII-SIIKI.I,    llVMvS. 


chaniu'ls  Ix'twecu,  protruding,'  aliovc  water,  and  jnolonjL^ing  tlic  short'  witli  a 
sunken  wall.  They  liave  been  (luaintly  called  the  Thread  of  Lite  Ledj^es,  and 
eertes,  they  are  no  bad  ejtitonie  of  that  mortal  thread  by  whi(di  many  a  iK)or 
sailor's  life  has  hun,<^  suspended,  wln-n  his  vessel  has  been  tossed  up  here  a 
wn'ck.  The  outermost  rock  of 
this  sin},Milar  group  is  kn(nvn  as 
the  Thrumeait,  —  a  name  which 
seems  to  have  found  great  favor 
with  sailors  of  the  olden  time. 

1  will  relate  a  single  incident, 
whi(di  will  with  dilhculty  be  real- 
ized by  those  who  nuiy  have 
chanced  to  land  on  these  self- 
same rocks,  on  some  fair  sumnu'r's 
da\',  without  so  mu(di  as  wetting 
their  feet. 

<)ne  dirty  night  in  \ovend»(>r, 
l.S(S',>,  the  s(diooner  lii'Uc.  outward 
bound,  was  struck  by  a  gah^  when 

off  Monhegan.  She  was  then  standing  eastward.  Finding  that  she  could  not 
be  kept  on  her  course  in  the  teeth  of  the  increasing  gale,  the  niaster  ])Ut  about 
for  Uoothbay  Harbor,  not  doubting  his  ability  to  find  it;  but  when  day  broke, 
tilt!  licUe  was  already  among  the  lireakers.  witli  ili?ath  staring  all  on  boartl 
in  the  fa(!e.  Both  aiichors  were  let  go.  Ii  was  a  vain  lidpe;  for  the  chains 
snapped  like  rope-yarns  under  the  trenu-mlttus  strain,  leaving  the  BvUe  to  the 

mercy  of  the  next 
breaker,  which 
hurled  her  against 
the  leilges  a  miser- 
able wreck. 

This     was     the 
situation   at    seven 
in      the     morning, 
when      the      wt)ril 
was    passed   about 
anumg  the  men  of 
E  u  t  h  e  r  f  o  r  d '  s 
Island  that  a  vessel 
was  ashore  on  the 
dreadeil  Threatl  of 
Life  Ledges.    ( )nly 
tht)se  who  have  heard  it  can  know  the  thrilling  effect  of  such  an  announce- 
ment.     Three  stout   fellows  —  common,  every-day  men,  but  heroes  every  one 
—  manned  their  dory,  anil  ])ushed  off  to  the  rescue.      The  sea  ran  so  high 


SETTIXti    ri-    A    Wli;\V.VM. 


■m 


w 


I  y- 


222 


rilK   riNL-TUliK   COAST. 


that  they  wcru  coiupelled  to  givt;  up  the  tittt'inpt  to  roach  the  wreck,  Imt, 
after  a  lianl  pull  they  suciceeded  in  uiakiiij^  a  landiuj;  at  the  hack  side  of  the 
Unlgtis,  whicdi  they  rapidly  crossed  ovt'r  to  that  nearest  the  wreck. 

between  them  and  the  doomed  vessel,  howi'ver,  there  was  an  iiupassaltle 
fjidt'  <d'  ra,i,dii^  water.  The  next  (pu'stion  was  how  to  }^et  the  crew  nIT.  The 
wreck  was  certain  to  bniak  up  in  a  f(!W  liours  at  nxost.  Ihit  no  hoat  could  livo 
a  moment  in  that  sea,  nor  the  stoutest  swimmer  hope  to  reach  the  rocks  with 
lil'c;  or  if  he  should  succeed,  it  would  only  Im- to  meet  death  there  in  a  still  more 
horrihh^  i'orm.  There  is  no  lil'e-saviu},'  station 
near,  and  th(!  resciuers  wore  without  the  means 
of  sendimj;  off  a  line  to  the  perishinj,'  crew. 

With  tlu!  crew,  however,  it  was  now  a  matter 
of  life  and  death,  and  when  that  is  the  case,  men 
think  fast  and  act  <iuickly. 

First,  makiu},'  fast  a  stout  rope  to  a  jiiece  of 
plank,  the  sailors  next  cast  it  adrift,  in  the  liope 
that  the  swell  settin.t;'  so  strongly  in  toward 
the  led<,'es  would  carry  the  line  within  the 
rescuers'  reacdi.  We  may  well  believe  that  its 
pros^ress    over    the      _  _^^ 


si2^:^^.r:^*» 


_. -I 


v:mai!Is(i)tta    1!I\  i:i!. 


f  oa  m  i  n  j;-  l)illows 
was  watched  with 
breathh'ss  atten- 
tion, for  to  those 
imperilled  sailors 
it  was,  in  every 
sense  of  the  word, 
a  cast  for  life. 

After  a  few 
minutes  of  this  sus- 
pense, to  their  un- 
speakable relief,  their  plank  drifted  up  against  the  rocks;  but  it  was  only  with 
great  hazard  of  their  lives  that  the  rescuers  managed  to  secure  the  life-line, 
for  they  were  more  than  once  swept  off  their  feet  by  the  recoil  of  the  waves. 
Then  six  stout  arms  began  hauling  away  for  dear  life.  A  second  and  stronger 
line  was  (quickly  brought  ashore  by  means  of  the  first.  This  one  being  made 
fast  to  t\w.  rocks  of  the  ledge,  served  as  the  frail  bridge  over  whi(th  five  of 
tlu!  crew  nnide  their  perilous  passage,  between  life  and  death,  in  safety.  One 
man  was  lost. 

Heron  Island  is  anchored,  as  fast  as  rock  can  hold  to  rock,  in  the  mouth  of 
the  Danniriscotta.  There  is  also  a  sunnuer  colony  here.  Our  steamer  took  on 
a  party  of  tourists,  all  of  whom  were  chewing  gum,  and  all  shouting  "  Goo  by  I 
goo  by  !"  in  one  and  the  same  breath,  to  the  friends  who  had  come  down  to 
the  pier  to  see  them  off.     After  setting  up  their  })eculiar  shout,  they  fell  back 


g 


< 


■A 


Ms 


iii 


\\ 


M 


1 1 1  i^mt 


-i    : 
i    i 


PEMAQUID   THE   Fi  STRESS. 


upon  song.  The  vessel  then,  greatly  to  my  surprise,  pushed  boUUy  out  among 
the  ledges,  through  the  singular  hole-in-the-wall  where  the  shipwreck  took 
place,  so  letting  us  pass  into  John's  Bay  by  a  short  cut,  v/ith  Penuiquid  Point 
rising  before  us  on  the  opposite  shore.' 

This  is  another  of  those  long,  lean,  uneven  wedges  of  rock  driven  out  into 
the  ocean,  between  Muscongus  Bay  on  ^he  east  and  John's  liay  on  the  west.  A 
belt  of  rusty  red  granite  stretches  round  it  above  low-water  mark,  and  out  into 


the  foaming  breakers  l)eyond.  Pastures  pallid  from  exhaustion,  and  spotted 
with  clumps  of  melancholy  tirs,  spread  themselves  out  over  this  fouadatiou.  In 
the  extreme  corner  of  this  threailbare  robe  there  is  a  lighthouse. 

You  look  alx)ut  you  in  vain  for  those  evidences  of  long  occupation  which 
the  historic  vista  has  opened  to  you  in  advance. 

In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  our  tortoise  of  a  steamer  crept  quietly  up  to 
the  wharf  at  the  harbor.     Fifteen  years  ago  a  ll<Mirishiug  business  was  done  at 


•  '>'m 


M 


.4!i 


m 


u 


If!»    '■ 


L'L'(; 


rilK    I'lNK-TKKE    COAST, 


li    I 


the  jiorgy-oil  factory  here,  thus  giving  some  appearance  of  life  to  the  place,  at 
any  rate,  even  if  it  dealt  a  death-blow  to  its  sentiment.  Indeed,  one  jioigy  factory 
is  enough  to  create  a  solitude.  When  tliat  business  gave  out. — wiien  porgies 
■were  no  longer  to  be  caught  by  liook  or  by  crook, — the  large  works  were 
pulled  down,  and  nothing  has  since  risen  on  their  ruins. 

Uefore  coming  to  I'enuupiid,  one  should  have  passed  an  hour  or  two  in  read- 
ing up  the  history  of  the  place. 

A  few  ])eoi)k^  have  put  the  notion  into  the  heads  of  a  good  many  more 
people,  I  iiiid,  that  I'emaquid  lias  a  liistorv  going  back  of  any  existing  record. 
jMysterious  hints  are  drop[)ed  about  an  older  civilization  tlian  we  wot  of. 

Now  everybody  loves  mystery  except  historians.  It  is  their  ungrateful  ta.sk 
to  destroy  other  ])eoplc's  illusions. 

If  a  few  fishermen  were  in  the  habit  of  coming  here  before  settlement  was 
ever  tliought  of,  much  less  attempted,  what  does  it  signify?  Our  own  tisher- 
nuMi  now  make  yearly  \  vages  to  (Jreenhind,  with  the  same 
object.  We  know,  indee(..  that  in  course  of 
time  these  Hshermen  and  traders  ItccMUie 
colonists;  but  we  may  safely  cliallenge  the 
assumption  that  those  tirst  transient  conu'rs 
made  any  of  theim])rov(>ments  now  seen  aliout 
(V,i^^^j^^rtg%  I'emaipiid.  A  booth,  a  wigwaui,  a  camp-tire 
/  J^j^^ffp^  i"  ^1"'  woods  or  on  the  beach,  nu't  all  the 
V  "^'-^'htu^MSt  wants  of  nu'u  who  lived  on  shore  just  long 
enough  to  dry  their  Hsh,  or  trade  off  their 
wares,  and  wlio  left  no  other  traces  of  their 
stay  behind  them ;  nor  is  it  usual  even  for 
actual  settlers  to  labor  at  the  laying  down  of 
paved  streets,  for  instance,  i'or  which  they 
could  have  no  earthly  use,  until  other  and  more  indispensable  wants  are 
provided  for. 

Captain  Smitli,  wlio  tislied  and  traded  at  IVma([ui(l  in  tlie  year  1()1 1,  anil 
whose  name  is  a  household  word  among  us,  saw  nothing  wliatever  to  indicate  the 
presence  of  European  settlers.  Nor  did  his  particular  friend  Xahanada,  saga- 
more of  PenuKpiid,  who  had  been  in  England,  and  cimld  s])eak  excellent  English, 
even  liint  such  a  thing,  or  Smith  woidd  hardly  have  failed  to  mention  it.'' 

Atter  sju-aking  of  his  friendship  for  Nahanada,  one  of  those  Indians  whom 
Weymouth  had  kidnapped,  and  llaman  liad  brought  back.  Smith  goes  on  to  say 
that  ''with  him  iind  divers  others  I  had  concluded  to  inliabit,  and  defend  them 
against  their  mortal  enemies,  the  I'arratines,''  or  in  effect  to  set  up  a  new 
.lanu'stown  here  in  bleak  New  England.  Xahanada  end)raced  Smith's  oft'er 
with  "no  small  devotion'';  but  we  are  sorry  to  .say  thiit  iu)twithst;inding  his 
association  with  the  great  ones  of  England,  by  whom  he  had  been  much 
caressed,  Nahanada  had  become  as  much  a  savage  as  ever  when  he  and  Smith 
entered  into  this  alliance,  offensive  and  defensive. 


AIMtOW-IIKAK. 

(Actual  Size.) 


AKHOW-IIKAI). 

{Acliml  Sizt'.) 


I'KMAQril)    rilK    KOKTHKSS. 


'W4 


We  thus  have  a  (lefiuite  starting-point,  at  any  rate. 

In  the  next  place,  William  liradfurd,  the  faithful,  minute,  and  conscientious 
historian  of  Plymouth  Colony,  tells  us  under  the  date  of  lG2i{  that  "there  were 
also  this  year  sonu'  scattering  beginnings  made  at  PasoiitaAvay  by  Mr.  ])a\'itl 
Thompson,  at  ^lonliegan  and  sonu>  other  jilaees  l)y  sundry  others.''  If  to  this 
we  add  what  Levett  says  he  heard  at  Caite  Xewageu  in  the  winter  of  this  sunw. 
year,  "  that  Penui([ui(l  was  also  taken   up,"  it  is    just   possible  that  I'enuupiid 

may  have  been  oiu^  of  tliost^  "other  places"  to  which 
liradford  refers,  though  we  Had  nothing  to  confirm 
such  an  inference. 

Xothing,  therefore,  is  more  improhabli'  than 
that    Pemaipiid    was    settled    before    Pl}-- 
nuMith,  as  we  have  heard  it  sometinu'S 
asserted.     The    Pilgrims    would    have 
known    it.    we    think.       .\nd    they 
would    nevi'r  liavc    hmg   delayed 
opening  a  communication  teud- 
''&.),-.,..      ing  so  much   to  mutual    ad- 
vantage.      P>iit  all   this  is 
only     i)art    and     parcel 
of    that  ol)scurity    in 
which    the    earliest 
settlements        of 
Maine     are     so 
hopelessly 


--•^»' 


i  n  V  o  1  V  e  d. 

The     primitive 

settlers    seem     to 

have  conducted  their    -'■>i'i'--V'vi;;'i> 

attairs   hke    uumi    who  *'v,'i^* 

have   moved   out  of    tlie  MtV-'''^ 

world,  and  whom  the  worhl  ""W^K.\> 


,i''v<';. 


fifM\A. 


W^.,, 


has  forgotten.'"' 

I    hav»»    said     i)U)re    than     1 
intended,    in    tlu^    lioi)e    of    giving 
some    check    to    those   loose    and     mis 


leading  statements  which,  fmm  fi'cipient         \\^W^\^K'cj(ii .  ••  ^^m'-'j^^ 
repetition,  gain  credit  among  uninstrueted  '  va^j«'   -' JV'\ 

visitors,   and    are  so    hard  to   root    out.      No 
phice   on    the    whole   coast    has    afforded   such   a 
})lentiful    crop    of   historical    nettles    as    I*ema(pu( 
The   indulgent    reader    will.    F    trust,    therefore    a|)i)re- 
ciate  the    endeavor  tu    give   him  the   true    countersign, 
before  we  go  the  roiuuls  together. 

This  tour  of  a  sjujt  not  much  larger  than  a  country  gentleman's  private 
grounds  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  profitable  exjieriences  old  or  young  could 
possibly  have ;  not  so  much  for  what  the  jtlace  has  to  show,  though  in  this 
respect  it  is  by  no  nu'ans  lacking,  as  for  the  crowding  recollections  it 
calls  up,  the  consistency  it  gives  to  things  but  imperftvtly  understood  at  best, 
and  for  the  satisfaction  one  feels  in  walking  about  among  scenes  consecrated  by 
historv. 


m 


228 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


fil' 


[J, ' 


A  short  walk  takes  us  to  the  rising  ground,  where  the  fortress  of  colonial 
times  still  marks  the  farthest  point  at  which  the  ensign  of  England  could  assert 
its  sovereignty  in  this  (quarter  of  the  globe.  In  a  short  (quarter  of  an  hour  one 
has  made  the  circuit  of  the  grass-grown  ramparts;  has  peered  into  all  the 
choked-\ip  ixnderground  holes ;  has  rebuilt  in  imagination  the  batteries,  the 
bastions,  the  magazines ;  has  looked  over  all  the  rust-eaten  relics  that  the  in- 
trusive spade  has  turned  up,  — has  brought  the  past  vividly  before  him,  and  the 
dead  to  life. 

What  are    they   then,   these   mysterious   conductors,   which   enable   us   to 

look  across  the  centuries 
down  the  long  vista  of 
time  ? 

The  story  of  this  for- 
tress is  the  story  of  the 
settlement  itself,  for  the 
fortunes  of  one  determined 
the  fate  of  the  other.  The 
settlers  built  their  hrst 
fort  on  the  sanu>  ground 
since  occupied  by  the  more 
elaboi'ate  works,  as  it  Avas 
the  dominating  ])oint  of 
the  peninsula.  It  was 
probably  no  more  than  a 
strongly  Imilt  house,  with 
a  stockade  anmnd  it;  but 
such  as  it  Avas,  no  body  of 
settlers  could  feel  them- 
selves secure  without  its 
protection,  for  the  feeling 
th.'it  they  were  trcvspassers 
made  them  always  fearful 
of  a  surprise. 

Before  the  weak  plan- 
tation was  fairly  settled 
in  some  order,  one  Dixy  Bull,  a  renegade  Ei\glish  trader,  whose  name  is  found 
among  the  patentees  of  Agamenticus,  made  a  descent  upon  it  with  his  crew 
of  outlaws.  Bull  seems  to  have  ransacked  the  place  at  his  leisure.  So  the 
history  of  this  fortification  begins  with  an  ill  omen. 

Fort  and  settlement  were  given  to  the  flames  in  the  time  of  Philip's  War, 
though  not  until  the  settlers  had  made  good  their  escape  to  the  islands.  The 
close  of  this  war  brought  with  it  a  new  order  of  things,  as  New  York  now 
assumed  the  government  of  Pemaquid,  as  an  appendage  of  that  ]n"ovince,  by 
royal  letters-i)atent.     The  very  first  thing  done  was  to  build  a  timber  redoubt, 


FORT    FRKDEniCK    AND    ENVIHONS. 


PEMAQUII)    rilK    FORTRESS. 


229 


with  a  bastionod  outwork,  in  order  to  establish  a  rallying-iioiut  for  the  fugitive 
settU'rs."  It  was  completed  in  1(177,  and  garrisoned  with  some  regular  soldiers 
from  New  York.  The  new-comers  called  the  place  Jamestown,  and  the  fort. 
Fort  Charles. 

Under  the  new  regime  a  strictly  military  government  was  established,  of 
which  the  local  commandant  was  the  head.  A  code  of  regulations  —  emanating 
from  the  council-board  at  New  York,  but  Avhi(di  read  as  if  they  were  drawn  up 
on  a  drum-head  after  a  concpu'st  —  was  enforced,  with  a  cool  detiaiKM'  of  the 
people's  rights,  either  in  their  ])ersons  or  propert}'.  If  the  ])eople  had  hitherto 
lived  almost  without  law,  they  were  now  to  learn  what  it  was  to  be  governed 
too  much.  Their  domestic  occupations,  their  out-of-door  employnuMits,  were 
regulated  by  a  signal-gun  fr(»m  tin;  fort;  and  they  were  squeezed  at  every  turn 
by  the  needy  adventurers  into  Avhose  (dut(!hes  they  had  fallen. 

The  i)olitical  situation  was  interesting.  Knglaiid  now  lii'st  asserted  a  deter- 
mination to  h(dd  renuKpiid,  by  force  of  arms,  against  the  claim  of  France  to 
establish  her  boiuidary  at  the  Kennebec.^  England  thus  forestalled  any  motion 
toward  occujjying  the  disjmted  territory, — disi)uted  ever  siiu-e  it  had  been 
granted  by  the  sovereigns  of  both  states,  in  turn,  without  bringing  about  any 
agreement  as  to  the  actual  rights  of  either.  A(!cording  to  the  interpretation  of 
the  French  court,  l*em;upiid  was  Frent'h  soil ;  by  all  the  traditions  of  the 
Engli.sli  court,  the  Saint  Croix  formed  the  true  bcmndary.  WluMu^ver  the  twt) 
nations  went  to  war,  the  quarrel  over  this  strip  of  territory  was  revived  ;  when- 
ever peace  Avas  declared,  the  negotiators  seem  to  have  purposely  left  the  (pies- 
tion  unsettled  as  something  with  which  either  party  might  challenge,  at  some 
future  time,  the  good  faith  of  the  other.  So  poor  Acadia,  like  .Mahomt't's 
coffin,  hung  suspended  between  the  two  claimants. 

This  state  of  things  converted  all  Eastern  iMaine  into  debatabh^  ground,  one 
part  being  in  the  occupation  of  the  French,  and  another  part  in  that  of  the 
English,  with  the  Fenobscot  forming  a  sort  of  natural  barrier  between  them  for 
thei)resent;  but  the  erection  of  Fematpiid  into  a  stronghold  put  an  end  to  all 
uncertainty  about  tlu>  intentions  of  the  ]>ritish  court,  vi'-tually  to  assert  con- 
trol over  the  region  in  dispute;  so  Fema(;^iud  henceforth  assumed  a  political 
importance  wholly  disproportioned  to  its  (diaracter  as  a  fishing  handet. 

If  only  great  inten^sts  led  nations  into  war,  then  we  might  take  leave 
of  this  history  where  it  is ;  yet  it  seems  only  too  evident  that  neither  national 
dignity  nor  even  national  antipathy  can  truly  ac^coiuit  for  the  attitude  so  long 
nuuntained  by  two  great  states  touching  this  wilderness,  which  neither  hail 
been  able  to  bring  under  subjection  to  civilizing  influences  after  a  trial  of 
eighty  odd  years.  The  true  solution,  we  suspect,  is  to  be  sought  for  in  tlie 
secret  history  of  those  rival  monopolies,  fostered  by  both  courts;  in  the  corru|)t 
influences  brought  to  bear  upon  high  officials  for  the  ])urpo.se  of  controlling  the 
fur  trade ;  in  the  penpiisites  derived  by  hangers-on;  in  the  artfully  thrown-out 
hints  that  gre.at  reveinit^s  were  to  be  derived  by  keeping  the  region  a  sort  of 
national  preserve,  rather  than  in  the  demands  or  interests  of  the  common- 


'r 


230 


THE    I'lNH-rUKK    COAST. 


weal.  When  inoUcarclis  play  at  this  game,  it  is  never  dirtieult  to  throw  (hist 
in  the  people's  eyes. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  i)eople  of  Pemaquicl  and  its  dependencies  not  only 
found  themselves  being  sipieezed  by  the  rapaeit}'  of  their  friends,  but  destined 
to  l)eeome  the  espeinal  target  for  their  enemies.  In  times  past  their  very 
insigniKciance  had  proved  their  safeguard ;  they  were  destined  to  know  what 
it  was  to  be  lifted  into  prominence. 

In  1(')88  Sir  Edmund  Andros  made  a  sudden  deseent  upon  the  Frencdi 
tniding-])ost  then  occupied  by  Saint  (.'astin.  and  now  known  by  his  nanu*. 
Andros  plundered  the  house  of  its  goods,  little  dreaming  what  would  follow. 
In  revenge,  Castin  incited  his  friends,  the  Abenakis,  to  dig  up  the  hatclu't. 
Soon  the  whole  border  was  in  a  blaze.  News  of  the  revolution  in  England,  and 
imprisonment  of  Andros  at  Boston,  threw  everything  into  greater  confusion. 
The  royalist  garrison  of  Pemaquid  })artook  of  the  excitements  and  the  dissen- 
sions of  the  times.     ^Many  soldiers  deserted,  some  were  drawn  oft',  the  rest  with 


A    S>'1<;    IIAltltOlt.     I'KMAlilll). 


hi-; 


difficulty  kept  at  their  post  of  duty,  while  the  storm  of  war  was  r(\'uly  to  burst 
upon  them  in  all  its  fury. 

At  Castin's  fort  active  preparations  Avere  making  for  the  attack,  Castin 
himself,  and  Father  Thury,  of  the  Indian  mission,  being  the  energetic  leaders. 
Spies  were  sent  out  to  New  Harbor,  an  out-village  of  Pemaquid,  to  ascertain 
and  rejHJrt  how  the  inhabitants  disposed  themselves  about  l1  'ir  every-day 
work,  and  what  would  be  the  best  way  to  strike  them  unawares. 

The  blow  fell  one  afternoon  in  August,  1G81).  A  war  p;irty,  sent  out  from 
the  Penobscot  villages,  gained  the  eastern  shore  in  their  cauies,  undiscovered. 
It  was  in  harvest-time.  The  unsuspecting  settlers  had  gone  about  their  usual 
avocations,  some  to  the  fields,  some  to  the  shores.  Vigilant  eyes  were  watching 
them;  and  when  the  men  were  so  eomidetely  dispersed  as  to  render  resistance 
of  no  avail,  a  furious  onslaught  began  simultaneously  at  two  points.  It  was 
planned  with  fiendish  ingenuity.  The  main  village  lay  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  fort.     The  Farms,  where  most  of  the  men  were  at  work,  were 


PEMAQl'Il)   TIIK    FORTRKSS. 


'2'M 


ut  tlio  Falls,  three  miles  oif.  New  Harbor,  two  miles  east  of  the  fort,  had  sonie 
dozen  houses. 

The  assailants  divided.  One  band  threw  itself  between  the  fort  and  village; 
the  other  cut  off  the  village  from  the  Farms.  Then  the  butchery  began.  As 
the  men  at  the  Falls  ran  for  the  fort,  they  were  either  sliot  down  or  taken 
in  the  net  the  enemy  had  spread  for  them.  Thomas  (ryles,  who  Avas  at  work 
in  his  hay-field,  was  mortally  wounded  by  the  first  volley.  The  Indians  then 
rushed  in  and  made  him  their  prisoner,  along  with  a  number  of  others,  among 
whom  was  Gyles'  youngest  son.  ^loxus.  th(^  chief  of  this  band,  said  to 
Gyles,  ironically,  that  he  was  sorry.  The  dying  man  replied  that  he  asked  for 
no  favor  except  to  pray  with  his  children.  This  being  granted  him,  Gyles  was 
led  aside  and  despatched,  while  his  two  .sons  stood  by  in  the  grasp  of  his 
murderers  and  heard  it  all. 

In  like  manner  those  inhabitants  who  were  left  in  the  village, — and  these 
were  mostly  women  and  (diildren,  —  who  made  for  the  protection  of  the  fort, 
were  either  intercepted,  or  only  reached  it  by  fleetness  of  foot. 

The  assailants  next  turned  their  attention  to  the  fort.  Some  houses  stand- 
ing along  the  street  leading  from  the  village  to  the  fort  were  filled  with  savages, 
who  fired  at  everv  one  who  showed  himself.  Fu  like  manner  the  high  rock 
that  makes  so  conspicuous  a  feature  of  the  ground  to-day  served  to  shelter  more 
assailants,  who,  firing  within  ])istol-sliot,  were  able  to  drive  the  gunners  away 
from  their  ])osts. 

Weems,  the  comnmnder  of  the  fort,  held  out  till  the  next  day,  when,  finding 
but  fourteen  men  out  of  thirty  unhurt,  he  surrendered  the  ])lace  on  condition 
that  the  garrison  should  be  free  to  depart  lunuolestcd.  Fort  and  village  were 
then  set  on  fire,  after  which  the  Indians  marcdied  off  in  triumi)h  with  their 
captives. 

Thus,  for  the  second  time,  Pematpiid  was  swept  out  of  existence. 

Exit  Sir  Edmund  Andro.s,  and  enter  Sii  \Villiam  Phi])S,  a  man  born  almost 
within  sight  of  PtMuaquid,  a  rider  sprung  from  the  ranks  of  the  people,  the 
representative,  and,  to  some  extent  also,  the  product  of  the  new  order  of  things 
in  New  England,  conseciuent  ujton  the  dethronement  of  the  Stuarts  in  ()ld 
England.  IMiips  Avas  not  born  a  gentleman,  though  he  aspired  to  be  one;  he 
was  not  a  soldier,  but  he  had  soldierly  instincts.  His  iron  personality  was  the 
controlling  force  of  his  administration. 

One  of  the  royal  instructions  to  I'hips,  who  came  back  to  New  England 
clothed  Avith  the  prestige  of  a  king's  favcu",  was  to  rebuihl  I'enKupiid  at  once. 
In  the  summer  of  1()92,  therefore,  he  personally  superintended  tlie  erection  of 
a  new  fortress  on  the  site  of  the  old  one ;  but,  unlike  the  old  one,  built  in  a 
most  sidistantial  manner,  of  stone,  and  so  enlarged  as  to  take  in  the  rock  which 
had  proved  the  weak  spot  in  the  old  defences.  This  work  was  called  William 
Henry.  Cotton  Mather,  the  friend  and  biograplu'r  of  Sir  William,  gives  a  full 
and,  as  might  be  exjjected  from  a  j)erson  so  profoundly  ignorant  of  military 
affairs,  a  rather   bombastic   description   of   it."     Impoverished   ;Massachusetts 


i 

:!? 


232 


THE   riNK-rKKK   COAST. 


ii 


Strongly  demurred  against  being  called  upon  to  pay  the  bills,  but  Phips  put 
both  hands  into  the  treasury  and  built  his  fort. 

{"■rontenac  saw  that  he  nuist  either  give  up  his  control  over  the  savages  or 
destroy  Peniaquid ;  and  Frontenao  was  not  the  man  to  let  the  grass  grow  upon 
his  i)r()jects.  He  soon  despatched  two  ships  and  some  hundreds  of  savages  to 
take  the  fort;  but  the  garrison  had  been  notified  to  be  on  its  guard,  and  so  the 
l)lan  miscarried.  The  plain  story  has  a  somewhat  romantic  sequel.  Frontenac 
held  in  his  hands  at  this  time  a  young  Bostonian,  whose  unselfish  devotion  of 
himself  at  the  call  of  his  country  shines  out  clear  and  bright  on  the  dark  page 
of  the  time.  The  prisoner's  name  was  John  Nelson.  Having  j)enetrated 
Froutenac's  purpose.  Nelson  contrived,  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  to  get  word  of  it 
to  Boston  before  the  enemy's  ships  could  reach  the  coast ;  so  that  when  they 
did  arrive  there,  the  French  commander  judged  that  au  attack  Avould  be  impru- 
dent. Unfortunately  for  him,  Nelson's  agency  in  the  matter  was  discovered. 
Frontenac  dared  not  go  so  far  as  to  shoot  him,  though  he  put  him  to  the  cruel 
test  of  being  led  out  for  execution ;  but  he  shipped  Nelson  oft"  to  France  as 
altogether  too  dangerous  a  man  to  be  kept  in  the  colony.  Nelson  was  held  a 
state  prisoner  first  in  the  Chdteiiu  Angouleme,  and  afterward  in  the  Bastile,  till 
the  intervention  of  friends  procured  his  release.® 

Ihit  stone  walls  do  not  make  a  fort  any  more  than  a  prison.  It  might  have 
been  foreseen  that  Frontenaci's  next  blow  would  be  delivered  with  full  effect, 
after  the  failure  of  the  first.  Incapacity,  however,  ruled  at  Boston.  In 
August,  1G9G,  Iberville,  with  two  war-ships  and  a  mixed  force  of  French  and 
Indians,  came  again  before  Peniaquid.  At  this  time  there  were  about  a  hun- 
dred men  in  the  fort,  of  which  Captain  Pascho  Chubb  held  command.  Castiii 
and  his  Indians,  who  are  supposed  to  have  landed  at  New  Harbor,  at  once  broke 
ground  in  the  rear  of  the  fortress,  where  the  cemetery  is,  thus  cutting  off  the 
garrison  on  the  land  side.  Cannon  were  landed  and  batteries  erected  on  the 
adjacent  shores  ai'd  islands.  The  besiegers  worked  with  so  much  zeal  that  their 
batteries  opened  fire  by  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  next  after 
their  landing.  Chubb  retorted  a  first  summons  to  surrender  defiantly  enough. 
AVeems  had  fought  just  long  enough  to  save  himself  from  tlie  imputation  of 
cowardice,  but  Chubb's  courage  seems  to  have  oozed  away  precisely  at  the 
moment  when  that  of  a  true  soldier  begins  to  rise.  Intimidated  by  Castin's 
threats  to  show  no  (juarter,  unnerved  by  the  explosion  of  a  few  shells  inside 
the  fort  itself,  Chubb  hastened  to  open  his  gates  to  the  enemy  rather  than  fight 
it  out  like  a  man.     The  victors  had  not  counted  on  so  easy  a  conquest. 

Once  more  the  victorious  enemy  dismantled  the  works,  and  threw  down  the 
walls  so  impotently  raised  to  be  the  bulwark  and  stay  of  New  England.  For 
the  third  time  in  its  history  Pemaquid  had  fallen  a  prey  to  those  it  was  meant 
to  overawe,  perhaps  subdue,  and  with  its  fall  the  little  life  it  had  kept  in  the 
settlements  existing  east  of  the  Kennebec  flickered  and  went  out. 

No  further  attempt  to  fortify  Pemaciuid  was  made  until  1729,  when  Colonel 
Dunbar  was  sent  over  with  a  royal  commission,  giving  him  authority,  as  gov- 


rKMAlil'II)    TlIK    FORTRESS. 


233 


ernor  of  the  resuscitated  ducal  province,  to  rebuild  the  fort  at  the  charge  of 
the  crown.  This  he  proceeded  to  do  on  the  old  lines ;  so  it  is  the  ruins  of  this 
later  work,  and  not  of  the  one  raised  by  Phips,  that  we  now  see  around  us.'" 
Dunbar  called  it  Fort  Fri'derick,  in  conii)linient  to  the  I'rince  of  Wales,  father 
of  George  111.  It  stood  until  the  Revolutionary  War  broke  out,  at  which  time 
the  inhabitants,  taking  counsel  of  their  fears,  chose  to  demolish  it,  upon  the 
strange  plea  that,  as  they  were  not  strong  enough  to  defend  it,  the  fort  was  an 
element  of  weakness  rather  than  of  strength.  So  tliat  whether  by  the  hand  of 
friend  or  foe,  LVmacpiid's  evil  destiny  was  fully  acu'.omplished  at  last. 

The  history  of  this  fortress  is,  thend'ore,  we  blush  to  say,  a  tale  of  dishonor, 
unredeemed  by  one  solitary  act  of  heroism  on  which  we  would  like  to  dwell. 
Let  us  pass  on  to  other  things. 

On  approaching  the  fort  by  the  street  leading  uj)  to  it  from  the  east,  we 
should  first  turn  oft'  to  the  left  in  order  to  look  at  the  strip  of  pavement  recently 
uncovered  at  a  de})th  of  a  foot  and  a  half  below  the  surface  of  the  ground." 
The  area  so  far  exposed  shows  a  perfectly  well-laid  pavement,  of  small  cobble- 
stones, such  as  may  still  be  seen  in  the  court-yards  of  sonu;  old  New  England 
mansions.  Of  the  genuineness  of  this  pavement  there  need  be  no  question, 
since  the  evidence  of  one's  eyes  is  all-sufficient  upon  that  point ;  but  of  its 
origin,  there  is  room,  perhaps,  for  a  difference  of  opinion. 

Some  find  in  it  —  and  this  brings  us  back  to  the  point  we  were  discussing 
at  the  beginning —  clear  proof  of  an  occupation  going  back  —  I  know  not  how 
far  —  to  the  Northmen,  perhaps.  Some  are  satisfied  to  look  at  it  through  the 
spectacles  of  others.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  been  unable  to  see  anything 
extraordinary  about  it.  Apparently  there  was  a  street  leading  from  the  water- 
side, up  the  rise,  toward  the  southeast  angle  of  the  fort,  whence  a  second  street 
led  toward  the  cemetery,  and  a  third  toward  the  wharf  at  the  north  of  the  cem- 
etery. Plainly,  the  fort  was  the  common  centre  for  all  these  streets,  and  to  its 
presence  here,  or  its  needs,  one  may  safely  attribute  their  origin  without  going 
farther  back.  The  removal  of  building-stones,  heavy 
guns,  and  materials  of  every  description,  from  the 
shores  to  the  fort,  seems  to  point  clearly  enough  to  the 
origin  of  paved  streets,  without  referring  it  to  builders 
who  could  have  had  no  use  for  such  things,  or  whose 
existence  is  not  even  ascertained.  One  experiment  of 
dragging  an  eighteen-pounder  gun  over  a  nuiddy  road 
would  probably  convincie  the  most  increcUilous  person 
that  by  making  the  approaches  to  the  fort  practicable 
at  all  times,  the  builders  were  merely  saving  their  own 
labor. 

So  with  the  old  cellar-holes  found  scattered  about 
these  streets.     Their  presence  is  fully  accounted  for  in 

the  story  of  the  second  siege.  And  the  tenor  of  the  orders  issued  in  Sir 
Edmund  Andros'  time  warrants  the  inference  that  the  present  street,  leading 


-  y 


THE    GKAVKS. 


ill 


t 

!  ■ 


\   ■ 


IW 


2.34 


THE   riNK-rUKH   COAST. 


t'loiii  the  fort  toward  New  Harhor.  was  the  only  one  then  existing  on  this 
pcuiinsuhi.  The  accnniuhition  of  »'arth  above  unused  streets  or  pavements  is 
som(!thin<,'  of  too  frequent  occurrence  to  have  any  peculiar  nieauiug  in  this 
particular  ])lace. 

The  little  graveyard  on  the  hill,  behind  the  fort,  the  same  on  which  Cast  in 
oi)ened  his  trenches,  contains  litth^  of  interest  that  can  be  r(!Oovered.  Only  one 
stone  of  early  date  remains,  and  that  has  simidy  the  initials  HM  and  date  of 
KJIJ").  This  stone  was  noted  by  a  curious  visitor  of  1710,  who  found  Pemacpiid 
the  solitude  its  destroyers  left  it. 

It  is  three  good  miles  to  the  lighthouse  at  the  I'oint,  from  whi<!h,  when  the 
sun  is  in  the  west,  tlu^  houses  on  ^Monhegau  may  be  seen  distinctly. 


ill! 


pi 
It 


: 


1  East  Boothbay  (lI(i(li;il()ir.-<  Mills)  aixl  .Smitli  HrLstol  lie  on  opposite  .sides  of  the  Dam- 
ariscotta,  about  three  miles  t'nmi  tlie  sea.  Four  miles  up  we  come  to  the  l)attery  <>ii  Fort 
Island,  at  the  Narrows,  luuer  lIiTuii,  with  its  eotta^es,  makes  an  excellent  landmark  for  this 
river.  The  .smelt  run  up  in  shoals  in  winter,  nuikinf^  a  lishery  so  profitable  as  sometimes  to 
be  wcjrtli  fifteen  thousand  dollars  in  a  sfasun. 

-  July  4,  IdSii,  Ih'ury  dossflyn  laid  out  the  town  on  Sheepseot  Hiver,  •'  the  ruins  nf  which 
now  remain,  south  of  Slift'iiscot  MridLie.  in  the  town  of  Newcastle."  These  ruins  are  fidly 
deseribed  in  \'ol.  I\'..  ••Maine  Historical  Society's  Collfctions." 

'^  remaquid  is  now  the  local  nanu'  only  for  this  part  of  Bristol,  insteatl  of  beinir,  as 
many  have  supposed,  the  corporate  name  of  a  townshij).  The  wide  use  made  of  the  old  his- 
toric name  by  the  ureat  public  is.  however,  a  strikini;  e.vami)le  of  the  survival  of  the  fitti'st, 
which  lei^islators  evi'ry where  miitht  take  a  hint  from. 

■»  Nahanada.  with  four  others,  was  kidnajiped  in  this  vicinity  by  Weymouth.  \Vhen  he 
arrived  at  Plymouth.  Sir  Kerdinando  (iori^es.  wlm  was  then  unvernorof  that  place,  sumnnirily 
seized  three,  of  whom  Nahanada  was  one. 

^  ( >ne  .Fohn  Brown  has  usually  lu'en  considered  the  lir.st  settler  here,  under  an  Indian  pur- 
chase of  1()2.">.  Maverick,  however,  it  h'ls  the  settlement  to  Alderman  Ahlworth'.s  peojjle  in 
l(i2o  ;  but  iiiasnuich  as  Shurtt'.  Aldworth's  aufut,  made  oath  in  l(l(i2  that  he  was  not  sent  over 
until  IfJ'Jil,  Maverick's  memory  was  probably  at  faidt  here.  (The  patent  to  Aldworth  did 
not  issue  until  1(J.'!2.)  Aside  from  this  we  think  his  statement  is  correct,  remaijuid  was 
outside  the  tirant  and  j;nvernment  of  (ioriics.  .\t  (Irst  the  settlers  lived  wrthout  much  law, 
and  they  f;et  a  very  inilifferent  character  from  friend  and  foe  alike.  Bradford  accuses  them 
of  .sellhifi  puis  to  the  Indians,  tradin;;  with  and  i:ivini:  inti'llijrenecr  (o  the  French,  etc.  Jo.s- 
selyn  sjx'aks  of  them  with  scorn.  In  l(i:!d  the  ship  AikjcI  (lnhriil  was  wrecked  here  while  on 
her  way  to  Moston  with  emii^raius.  liuiibard.  KiTii.  says.  ••There  have  been  fen- a  lonj;  time 
seven  or  eifiht  considerable  dwelliuiis  about  I'emaqiiid."  The  Jinxer  sailed  out  of  l*ema(iuid 
harlior  to  meet  the  Eiiterprisi\  and  the  battle  took  jilaee  between  IVnuKjuid  I'oint  and  Moidie- 
gan,  Se[)tember.  1S14. 

"  In  lti()4  Charles  II.  granted  his  brother  .lanu-s,  Duke  of  York,  all  the  territory  between 
the  Kennebec  and  Saint  Croix  rivers,  except  the  small  tract  boiuided  east  on  I'euKKiuid  Kiver. 
It  was  styled  Sagadahoc  in  the  i)atent,  but  became  familiarly  known  as  the  Duke's  province. 
The  next  year  a  royal  commission  visited  it,  and  attempted  to  settle  a  new  form  of  civil 
government.  They  also  gave  the  country  the  official  name  of  Cornwall.  Having  nothing 
behind  to  sup])ort  it.  their  work  soon  fell  to  the  ground. 

'  By  the  provisions  of  the  treaty  of  Saint  (iermain  iu  l(i32,  and  of  Breda  m  1007,  under 
which  I'entagoet  (Castine)  was  given  up  to  France. 


I'EMAQLIl)  TllK    FOUTKKSS. 


I'.T) 


*  Mather'H  (Ifscriptinu  is  us  fnllows:  "  Williaiu  Henry  was  Imilt  of  Htone  in  a  quad- 
rangnlar  lii;nrt',  l)cin<,'  aiinut  7;57  font  in  compass  witliout  tiif  walls,  and  U)S  foot  scpiarc  within 
the  inner  ones.  Twenty-eif,'ht  ports  it  had,  and  fourteen  (if  not  ei;,diteen)  iruns  mounted, 
whereof  six  were  eijjhteun- pounders.  'I'lie  wall  on  the  south  line,  fronting  to  the  sea,  was 
twenty-two  foot  hii,'li.  and  more  than  six  foot  lliick  at  the  ports,  which  were  eij;lit  foot  from 
till!  j^round.  The  i;reater  danker  or  round  tower,  at  the  western  end  of  this  line,  was  twelve 
foot  hif^h.  Tlu!  wall  on  the  east  line  was  twelve  foot  high,  on  the  north  it  was  ten,  on  the 
west  it  was  eii;hteen."  —  Pn      niitm  LtirtKnsnin. 

"  Nel.son  did  not  get  back  to  New  Kngland  for  ten  years.  The  author's  story  of  "('ai)taiu 
Nelson"  gives  mo.st  of  the  lea<ling  events  of  his  life.  Nelsim  died  at  Boston  in  1724.  Ills 
descendants  are  among  the  tii'st  families  of  New  Kngland. 

'"  David  Dunhar  laid  out  three  towns,  some  say  four,  covering  in  whole  or  in  part  Ilooth- 
bay,  Bristol,  and  Waldoboro".  The  power  he  assumed  of  re-granting  lands,  as  if  they  were 
vacant,  brought  him  into  collision  with  the  old  proprietors  whose  rights  were  thus  ignon'd. 
The  matter  was  referred  to  the  crown  attorneys,  whodeclareil  Dunbar's  acts  illegal.  This  i)ut 
an  end  to  the  existence  of  the  new  provini^e.  and  also  to  its  claim  to  be  outside  the  Massa- 
chusetts charter. 

•1  Though  it  is  claimed  as  a  recent  discovery,  the  pavement  is  mentioned  by  b(<th 
William.son,  Vol.  I.  p.  67,  and  by  .Fohnston,  •'  Bristol  and  I'enuuiiiid,"  p.  22;i. 


'      -'S'l 


\^ 


fl'l 


OUT   ON    A    LARK. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THOMASTOX,    ROlTXn    OWt,'s    IIKAI>. 

PnlouiuH.  "  Aboard,  aboard,  for  sliame  ! 
The  wind  sits  in  the  sliouldcr  of  your  sail, 
And  von  arc  stavM  for."  —  Hamlet. 


AFTER  witnessing  the  struggle  going  on  at  ouv  coast  resorts  for  what  is 
bizarre  or  jiurely  ornamental,  it  is  a  relief  to  walk  about  in  the  elm-shaded 
streets  of  a  downright  plain,  old-fashioned  country  village,  like  Thomaston, 
once  more,  where  i)icturesqueness  is  achieved  by  simjdy  letting  things  alone. 
It  quite  restores  the  old  home  feeling  again.  And  Ave  feel  it  a  i)rivilege  to 
become  a  brief  part  of  that  tranquil  existence,  and  to  share  in  its  historic 
memories. 

Thomaston '  is  the  still  vigorous  mother  of  a  still  more  vigorous  offs])ring. 
Rockland  and  South  Thomastoi  "i-e  ribs  taken  from  her  side.  Seated  at  one 
corner  of  the  broad  Tenobsco*  half  a  dozen  harbors  in  her  lap,  with  her 

head  reclining  on  a  ])illow  atains  and  her  feet  in  the  sea,  what  is  the 

wonder  that  the  searchin  ji  the  early  traders  turned  to  this  spot  as  if  by 

instinct  ? 

To  this  cause  we  owe  that  succession  of  events  which,  together,  make  up 
the  (dieckered  history  of  this  slumberous  old  sea-place. 

It  was  in  some  dingy  old  counting-house  of  London  or  Bristol  that  the  plan 
first  took  shape.  It  seems  that  one  Edward  Ashley,  an  adventurer,  who  had 
been  in  New  England,  and  whom  Bradford  calls  a  "profane  young  man," 
though  allowing  him  "wit  and  abilite  enough"  for  the  business  in  hand,  had 
somehow  induced  two  wealthy  English  merchants,  called  Beauchamp  and 
230 


TIKXMASTON,    KorNI)  OWL'S   IIKAD. 


237 


Lpvcrott,  to  take  out  a  i)att'nt  for  all  tho  territory  lyinj;  botween  tho  IVnobscot 
uiul  .Miiscdii^nis  rivers,  with  the  view  of  setting  Ashley  up  in  a  trading,'  Imsiuess 
there,  in  ojiposition  to  tlie  I'ilgriins. 

B"hiii(l  Asiiley  was  the  shrewd,  seheniiug,  restless,  if  not  unprincipled, 
Allerton,  the  originator  of  the  sehenie,  whom  the  Pilgrims  more  than  suspected 
of  timing  his  trust  as  their  agent  to  his  private  account,  tliough  lor  the 
present  they  kept  tlieir  susjjicions  to  themselves.  When  all  was  ready  to  go  on 
without  them,  the  I'ilgrims  were  offered  a  partnership.  It  was  a  home-thrust 
at  tlieir  monojjoly,  because  this  Indian  trade  was  their  main  reliant!*^  for  paying 
otf  what  they  owed  in  England,  and  they  were  heavily  in  debt  there;  so  it 
(caused  them  to  make  numy  wry  faces  to  see  how  they  had  been  overreached  in 
the  house  (»f  their  fru-nds  :  still,  rather  than  be  shut  out  from  all  the  I'enobscot 
region,  the  I'ilgrims  swallo\ve(l  their  nufdicine,  but  they  prudently  sent  a  man  of 
their  own  to  keep  an  eye  on  Ashley .- 

This  was  the  origin  of  the  celebrated  Muscongus  ])ateut,  which,  after  passing 
through  nuiny  hands,  finally  fell  into  those  of  General  Knox,  of  Revolutionary 
fanu',  whose  wife  inherited  certain  rights  from  her  grandfather,  Waldo.'' 

(Jeneral  Waldo  was  making  i)r()gress  towr.id  peopling  his  lands  with  settlers, 
—  some  from  Ireland,  some  from  Gernuiny,  and  some  from  the  ohh'r  New  England 
settlements,  —  when  his  sudden  death  removed  the  guiding  hand.  When  the 
lievolution  broke  out,  Waldo's  heirs  became  political  refugees,  with  the  excei> 
tion  of  this  granddaughter,  who  had  married  young  Kiu)X  against  the  Avlshes 
of  her  family,  though  l)y  so  doing  she  eventually  ])reserve(l  her  rights  in  the 
Maine  estates.  Samuel  Waldo's  uanu^  is,  however,  stamped  upon  the  tract  in 
that  part  of  the  county  formed  from  it. 

Knox  came  to  Thomaston  after  the  war,  purjiosing,  it  would  seem,  to  take 
up  the  work  tliat  his  wife's  grandfather  had  left  untinished,  to  lead  the  life  of  a 
country  gentlt'man,  wlio,  after  many  years  devoted  to  the  service  of  the  pul)lic, 
found  he  had  yet  his  own  fortune  to  nuike.  Though  humbly  born  and  reared, 
his  military  life,  no  less  than  the  iuHuence  of  a  woman  of  birth  and  breeding  so 
near  to  liim  as  his  wife,  with  a  will  stnmger  than  his  own,  and  much  keener 
perceptions  of  Inunan  nature,  had  changed  the  young  and  ardent  republican  of 
1770  into  a  man  of  aristocratic  feelings,  aspirations,  and  tastes,  in  17*.).">;  so  that 
Knox  looked  forward  as  uuu'h,  perha[)S,  to  living  after  the  manner  of  the  great 
landed  gentr}'  of  England,  as  he  did  to  becoming  the  s  mnie  of  all  prosperity  to 
his  tenants ;  and  this  too  with  a  people  whose  hatred  for  aristocracy  in  all  its 
forms  was  the  legitimate  outgrowth  of  the  war.  So  laiuUord  and  tenant  met  on 
rather  debatable  gnmnd.  Still,  the  ex-gentral  was  a  man  of  such  unfailing 
bonhomie  that  he  soon  Avon  over  most  of  his  agrarian  tenants,  by  tht;  sim])le, 
sti-aightforward  honesty  of  his  character  and  the  magnetism  of  his  presence. 

Then,  again,  Knox  must  have  looked  forward  to  a  life  of  retirement,  even 
when  so  nearly  akin  to  exile,  with  the  natural  longing  of  a  man  who  is 
thoroughly  sick  of  iiU  the  strifes  and  cares  of  office ;  else  it  is  hard  to  account 
for  his  voluntary  withdrawal  from  all  society,  which  a  residence  at  Thomaston 


Pi 


' .  .1 


11  *! 


'  i  1 


2.S.S 


TIIK    IMNK-TRr  K   COAST, 


implied.  Hut  to  Mrs.  Knox,  the  woman  of  fashion,  the  leader  and  oraole  of 
\Vasliiugton'.s  dra\vin<,'-rooms,  the  sparklin-;  and  witty  snpport  to  a  sonxewhat 
slow  and  heavy,  but  honest  and  lovable,  husband,  the  change  must  have  seemed 
nothing  .shttrt  of  banishment. 

Hut  KiKix  had  saved  nothing  in  the  army;  he  was  a  jioor  man  when  he  laid 
down  the  i»ortfolio  of  war.  a  family  was  growing  up  al)out  him,  and  hi%  rto])ia 
lu'ld  out  hopes  of  a  (colossal  fortune.  So  Knox,  the  man  whom  the  gi-ave 
Washington  distinguished  by  liis  ])er.sonal  friendshii),  and  ^Irs.  Knox,  the  tine 
lady  of  Wasliington's  republiean  court,  buried  themselves  in  the  seclusion  of  a 


HJi 


^^Mm^mim.:^k:?i:msJi:. 


^lONTrKI.IKU,    <;KXK11AI.    KXOX  s    M.VNSlOX-IIorsE. 

frontier  village.  Knox  began  Ituilding  here,  in  171K5,  a  mansion  corresponding 
with  his  ideas  of  what  a  country  gentleman's  home  should  be,  which,  wlicn 
completed,  he  called  Mont})elier.  Local  tradition  woiUd  make  it  out  a  i)alacc  ; 
but  it  seems  to  have  been  rather  substantial  than  elegant,  like  the  general  him- 
self. It  was  two  stories  high  above  the  basement,  with  an  upper  half-story  rising 
from  the  roof,  designed,  perhaps,  for  a  lookout  over  the  sea,  a  distant  view  of 
which  the  house  tint'ly  commanded.  It  had  a  bow-fnmt,  with  balconu'S  running 
(]uite  round  the  outside  :tf  the  w'lole  house,  thus  setting  oft"  the  rather  plain 
exterior,  as  well  as  allowing  the  inmates  an  extensive  and  secluded  ])romenade 
in  bad  weather.     To  the  (-ountry  folk  it  was  doubtless  a  wonder  of  wonders. 

Knox  was  a  wh(th'-hearted,  upright  gentleman  as  ever  lived,  but  he  was  not 
a  man  of  business.  His  grand  scihemes  for  enriching  himself,  and  of  ])erform- 
ing  the  duties  of  a  ]>ublic  benefactor  at  the  same  tinu',  ])roved  a  Pandora's  box. 
out  of  which  swarmed  more  misfortunes  than  he  had  ever  dreamed  of.     He  did, 


I' 


A 


'  ■■t'f 


'ill 


f 


si 


TUOMASTON,  HOUND   OWL'S   HEAD. 


241 


however,  start  a  vevital)le  boom.  He  set  up  brick-yards,  saw-mills,  ami  lime- 
kilns; built  houses,  vessels,  and  dams;  in  short,  set  ^oing  a  prosperity  as  short- 
lived as  it  was  fallacious,  because  much  of  the  outlay  was  sunk  in  unpr()tital)le 
or  useless  schemes,  or  because  it  cost  Knox  more  to  make  a  cask  of  lime 
than  it  was  worth  in  the  market.  He  ran  ileeply  in  debt  and  became  a  bank- 
rupt, his  best  friends  being  also  his  largest  creditors. 

So  instead  of  the  life  of  ease  that  Knox's  imagination  had  pictured  to  him, 
he  found  his  later  years  oppressed  by  a  load  of  debt  which,  however  manfully 
he  might  strive,  could  not  be  lifted  off.  In  a  little  more  than  eleven  years  after 
he  ])assed  th(>  thresliold  of  his  new  home,  full  of  life  and  hope,  he  Avas  carried 
out  over  it  in  his  cottin,  a  broken-hearted  num. 

The  mansion  was  pulled  dowu  many  years  ago. 
brieily  as  "a  hirge,  rusty- 


Hawthorne  describes  it 


looking  edifice  of  wood, 
with  some  grandeur  in  the 
architecture,  standing  on 
the  banks  of  the  river,  close 
by  the  site  of  an  old  burial- 
ground,  and  near  where 
an  ancient  fort  had  been 
erected  as  a  defence  against 
the  French  and  Indians.* 
It  is  not  forty  years  since 
this  house  was  built,  and 
Knox  was  in  his  glory ; 
but  now  the  house  is  all 
in  decay,  while  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  it  there 
is  a  street  of  smart  edifices 
of  one  and  two  stories, 
occupied  l)y  thriving  me- 
ch"nics,  whicli  has  been  laid 
out  where  Knox  meant  to 
have  forests  and  parks. 
On  the  banks  of  the  river, 
where  he  intended  to  have 
only  one  wharf  for  his  own 
West  Indian  vessels  and 
yacht,  there  fire  two 
wharves  with  stores  and 
a  lime-kiln.  Litthi  apper- 
tains to  the  mansion  ex- 
cept the  tomb  and  the  old  burial-ground  and  the  old  fort.'' 

The  family  vault  referred  to  was  only  a  few  rods  east  of  the  mansion.     This 


Nv  ', 


GENERAL    KSOX  S    MONUMENT. 


f    •  : 


II 


! 


\ 


242 


rilK    I'lNK-THKK   COAST. 


f  ;.i 

:\i  ;i 

i   .t 

J1 


W' 


I!  i 


. 


is  also  described  as  "  a  spacious  receptacle,  an  iron  duor  at  the  end  of  a  turf- 
covered  luound,  and  surmounted  by  an  obelisk  of  marble."  Tlie  remains  and 
obelisk  were  long  since  removed  to  the  cemetery  on  the  hill  back  of  the  village. 

One  hardly  knows  whether  to  laugh  or  cry  over  these  evidences  of  the 
fluctuations  of  human  ])rosi)erity.  No  demaml  of  jirogress  hastened  the  down- 
fall of  the  old  house  that  was  once  the  envy  and  admiration  (»f  all  the  country 
round.  A  more  sorry  example  of  uncalled-for  (h-molition  could  hardly  l)e 
imagined.  No  one  seems  to  know  just  why  it  was  i)ulled  down  ;  its  site  is  to 
this  day  unoccupied,  save  by  one  small  frame  dwelling  and  by  the  name- 
less odds  and  ends  pertaining  to  the  neighboring  shipyard.  Two  of  the  out- 
buildings remain.  One  was  the  general's  stable;  the  other  was  occupied  by  his 
servants.  The  stable  was  converted  into  a  grist-mill;  the  (dtices,  into  a  railway 
station.  One  old  elm  hangs  its  head  in  shame  over  the  wreck  of  its  former 
si»lendid  surroundings,  to  which,  indeed,  it  is  the  dund)  witiu'ss  and  solitary 
mourner. 

From  this  spot  one  looks  straight  down  and  (mt  of  the  Saint  (ieorge's  to 
the  twinkling,  drowsy  sea.  Though  <[uite  broad  here,  at  low  tide  the  river 
shrinks  to  a  thin,  serpentine  streak  of  water,  winding  through  a  muddy  bed  like 
molten  silver  in  a  moidd  of  clay.  This  channel  touches  the  shore  only  a  few 
hundred  feet  away  from  the  site  of  the  old  mansion.  Tt  then  bends  sharply 
to  the  west,  and  is  soon  lost  sight  of  among  the  trees.  On  this  commanding 
ground  the  first  settlers  l)uilt  their  block-liouse,  with  a  covered  way  leading 
down  to  the  waterside.  It  had  been  the  scene  of  many  a  stubborn  conflict, 
many  a  desperate  onslaught  and  stern  repulse. 

Not  witlumt  long  search  did  1  succeed  in  flnding  the  little  shabby  mon- 
ument standing  on  the  spot  to  which  (Jeneral  Knox's  renuiins  were  Anally 
riMuoved,  aiul  if  report  speaks  truly,  without  more  show  of  respect  than  would 
be  paid  to  those  of  a  j)auper. 

Th(!  situation  of  this  cemetery,  with  the  numntains  rising  gi'een  and  smiling 
btdnnd  it,  the  sea  and  shores  stretched  (mt  crisp  and  sjjarkling  beneath  it,  is 
beautiful  indeed.  But  alas!  the  utter  neglect  which  surrounds  the  last  resting- 
jdac-e  of  such  a  man  as  Knox  is  enough  to  strip  the  landscape  of  its  charm, 
the  hallowed  earth  of  its  consecration.  One  side  of  the  iron  fence  enclosing  it 
was  so  broken  down  that  the  little  burial  jdot  could  be  entered  at  will. 
The  grass  was  green,  tall,  and  rank  about  the  little  shaft  which  recorded  the 
name  and  virtues  of  this  great  nmn.''     One  side  simply  reads:  — 

TiiK  Tom  II 

OK 

Majok   (iKNERAL 

!I.   Knox, 

WII<»    KIKI) 

OCT'II    2r,TII,    IWHJ; 

AGED   66    YKMIS. 

'Tis  fates  decree,  farewell  tliy  just  renown 
The  hero's  honor  &  the  gtxMl  inau'.t  crown. 


H 

o 


o 


.J 


't 


m 


I  < 


Ih 


•II 


TIIO.MASTOX.    HUUXI)   OWL'S    HEAD. 


L'4."i 


For  me  these  lines  lijul  ji  very  s.itirical  lueiuiiiig  iiidccd.  Could  it  be  true 
thiit  this  was  the  grave  of  that  daring  soldier,  that  iuvincihlc  spirit,  who  forced 
tilt"  passage  of  the  iee-l)h)(!ked  Delaware  with  his  guns,  who  stenuned  the  tide 
of  disaster  at  ^Monmouth,  and  who  fired  the   last  shot  at  Vorktown  '.' 

"  He  sleeps  his  last  skn-p ;  lie  has  fought  his  last  battle." 

While  sauntering  among  the  monuments  in  the  adjoining  gnmnd,  my  eye 
fell  on  a  massive  cenotaph  of  gray  granite  standing  near  tlu^  jirincipal  walk. 
The  caiHstone  bore  the  name  of  Jonathan  (!illey  on  ont^  of  its  faces,  —  not  a 
word  more.  Yet  this  (hunb  stone  has  its  sad  story,  too.  Shall  I  break  the 
silence  it  seems  enjoining?  Cilley,  the  grandson  of  a  Itrave  officer  of  the  Hevolu- 
tion,  fell  in  a  duel  with  CJravcs,  a  Kentuckian,and  a  mendier  of  the  same  Congress 
with  his  victim,  in  February,  IH.'iS.  They  fought  at  JJladcnsburg  with  rifles, 
Cilley  falling  at  the  third  fire.  He  had  no  (juarrel  at  all  with  (Iraves,  but  liis 
having  declined  to  accept  a  (diallenge  from  .James  Watson  Webb  was  resented 
by  (i raves,  the  bearer  of  it,  who  immediately  challenged  Cilley  himself.  This 
monument  was  raised  to  Cilley's  memory  by  the  contributitms  of  his  friends. 
Its  silence  aptly  conuuemorates  a  life  thrown  away  without  any  advantage. 

It  was  here  in  Thomaston  that  General  I'eleg  Wadsworth,  while  acting  as 
military  commandant  witlu)ut  tr()oi)S,  was  taken  prisoner  l)y  the  IJritish,  one 
cold  February  night  in  the  year  ITHl,  and  carried  off  to  Castine  in  trium])h. 
The  sentinel  at  the  door  had  only  time  to  challenge  before  the  enemy  rushed 
in  and  disarmed  him.  They  then  assaulted  the  house.  The  stout  old  general, 
who  had  jumped  out  of  bed  in  his  shirt,  fought  hand  to  hand  with  his  assailants 
until  a  shot  through  the  arm  put  him  hoi's  de  combat,  when  he  gave  himself  u]). 

From  Thonmston  it  is  only  four  miles  across  land  to  liockland.  while  by 
water  it  is  forty. 

The  longest  way  round  is,  however,  always  the  shortest  way  out  in  these 
pleasant  excursions  of  ours.  In  passing  out  of  the  Sjiint  George's  we  leave 
Cushing*'on  our  right  and  Saint  George^  at  our  left,  soon  again  to  be  h)st  among 
the  nniltitude  of  islan<ls,  great  and  snudl,  with  which  the  sea  about  us  seems 
literally  sowed.  After  getting  clear  of  the  Saint  (ieorge's,  and  passing  Tort 
Clyde,  our  course  lies  between  ^Metinie  and  the  main,  i)ast  Tennant's  Harbor, 
known  by  its  light,  thence  up  to  Whitehead  Island  and  light,  an  imjiortant 
landmark  situated  in  the  gate  to  that  maze  of  roek.s,  islands,  and  reefs  known 
as  the  Mussel-Kidges. 

Whitehead  is  considered  to  be  the  western  entrance  to  Penobscot  Bay.  It 
is  not  large,  but  stands  up  high  from  the  water,  and  is  readily  distinguished  by 
its  white  cliffs  and  tall  lightlumse,  first  built  in  l.SO.">. 

And  now  we  are  threading  our  way  through  the  intricate  ^lussel-Ridge 
channel,  where  dangerous  reefs  protrude  at  every  turn  and  on  every  side.  It 
was  one  of  these,  just  off  Ash  Island,  so  aptly  called  the  Grindstone,  that  the 
steamer  City  of  Portland  went  on  at  full  speed  sonu^  years  ago,  just  at  day- 
break, and  then  and  there  ended  her  voyage.     Her  pilot  had  shaved  the  ledge 


•'I 

;  1 


-i  % 


■i  T ' 


24(5 


TIIK    I'lNK-TUKK   COAST. 


|! 


just  a  little  too  closely.  Hy  j;r«'at  ^ood  luck,  however,  her  headway  carried  her 
so  tar  up  on  the  ledj^e  that,  iiotwithstaiidint,'  then;  was  a  had  sea  ruuniiit,',  the 
rocks  lu'ld  her  last,  so  that  tiie  pass(Mi<;ers  were  takcu  off,  much  t'rij,dit«'ued,  hut 
without  loss  of  lite.  Steamers  (dleu  eouu'  iuto  this  crooked  j)assa;^^e  to  avoid 
the  rou}.jh  water  luakiuj,'  outside  the  islands;  yet  unless  every  precaution  is 
used  in  running;  the  various  courses  from  mark  to  mark,  or  from  l)Uoy  to  huoy, 
the  deviati(»n  of  a  sin^de  fathom  from  the  true  channel  means  the  loss  of  the 
vessel.  If  slu'  had  j^oiie  clear  of  the  (rriudstone,  in  less  that  live  minutes  the 
Citif  of  I'lH-tliiiid  would  have  lieeii  in  deep  water  airain. 

A  short  run  from  Ash  Ishunl  brink's  us  out  into  tin;  narrow  pas.saije  opening,' 
between  Sheep  Island  and  .Monroe's  Island,  and  up  with  Owl's  Head,  —  a  name  as 
old  as  the  Indian  wars. — a  pronumtory  fanuliarly  known  to  all  wlio  have  sailed 
these  sejis.  Champlain  says  its  Indian  name  was  IJedahec.  Smith  says  it  was 
Mecadacut.  The  sleepy  litrle  lighthouse  lends  a  peculiar  aii]»ropriateness  by 
(hiy  to  its  present  desij^nation. 

Owl's  Head  usliers  ns  at  onct^  upon  a  scene  almost  too  beautiful  to  i)rofano 
with  si)eech  when  we  are  lookiuLj  at  it,  impossible  to  timl  laui^ua^^e  to  do  it 
justice  when  nu-mory  would  summon  it  before  us  attain.  Our  jiencil  is  no 
talisman.  One  shrinks  from  the  attempt  t(j  reproduce  the  charm  of  life  and 
color,  its  rich  warmth  and  ,i,dow.  its  exiiuisite  modulations,  its  masterful  breadth, 
with  our  I'old,  lifeless  imitation  sketch. 

Out  there  in  the  distance  are  the  Camden  Hills  with  the  morninj^  mists  still 
elinijini^  about  their  sunburnt  flanks.  (  Mie  by  one  they  slowly  lise  and  soar 
away.  (H'cr  all  stands  aired  .Me<j;unticook  warmint,'  his  broad  back  in  the  sun. 
How  the  old  fellow  scowls  when  sonu'  truant  (douil  comes  between  it  and  him  I 
Loni;  leagues  of  grayish-green  shores,  streaked  with  soft  sunshine,  stretch  on 
beyond  the  leagues  of  lustrous,  cool  gray  water.  Impalpable  shapes  rise  out  of 
the  distant  sea.  Indistinguishalde  sounds  are  borne  to  us  \iy  the  warm  lireezes 
from  off  the  land.  The  shores  glide  by;  the  waves  purr  soothingly  along  the 
beaches.  A  shriek  startles  ns  I  We  look  up,  to  see  a  city  drawn  up  at  the 
water's  edge.     We  have  been  dreaming,  and  the  dream  is  over. 

liockland'*  has  a  fairly  good  harbor,  or  will  have  one  when  the  breakwater 
now  being  built  out  from  its  nortlu'ast  jtoint  shall  be  completed.  In  old  times 
it  was  Owl's  Head  Uay.  The  city  itself  is,  as  we  have  said,  an  offshoot  of  old 
Thomaston.  No  longer  ago  than  the  beginning  of  the  century  it  went  by  the 
and)iguous  name  of  "The  Shiu-e,''  not  yet  having  attained  even  to  the  dignity 
of  a  village  ;  later  on  it  was  known  as  East  Thomaston.  Ship-i)uil(ling  and  lime- 
burning  have  since  brought  it  \ip  step  by  step  to  its  present  prominence,  st)  that 
Itockland  lime  is  now  known  the  wide  world  over. 

T'here  is  act  nuudi  here,  1  am  free  to  say,  that  would  be  likely  to  detain  the 
visitor. 

One's  curiosity  touching  the  process  of  converting  the  native  rock  into  lime 
is  soon  .satisfied.  It  is  a  very  siniide  matter.  The  business  itself  gives  a  cer- 
tain unkemi)t,  smoky,  and  barbaric  appearance  to  the  water-front,  which  is  not 


o 
J 


sii 


m 


rT 


a 


m 


llloMAsniN.    KolM)   nWI/S    IIKAI). 


LM<J 


iniitj'riiilly  Icssj'iit'd  until  (tnc  K»'ts  buck  out  of  tin*  ^rimt'  iiml  siiiokf  of  tlif  liiin'- 
kilns.  One  feels,  however,  ;i  certiiin  priile  in  a  seiiport  which  is  huth  self- 
ereative  ami  self-siistaiiiiiii;,  as  a^'aiiist  those  marts  of  trach'  which  serve  merely 
as  storehouses  for  t.ikiiii,'  in  ami  |»iittiii^'  out  otlier  ]ieo|ile's  merchamlise.  We 
sire  told  that  CJeiieral  Kiiox"s  favorite  toast  —  and  lie  was  a  lime-liurner  liimself 
—  used  to  be,  "A  hoop  to  the  barrel!"  In  Kotdiland  it  should  be,  we  think, 
"  Cement  to  the  Union  I  " 

As  wj'  have  now  entered  Penobscot  l>;iy.  we  should  not  omit  to  speak  (d' 
Matiiiicus.  its  lonely  ((nt|»ost  and  bciicon.  This  island  lies  seventeen  miles  out, 
in  the  open  ocean,  southeast  from  Owl's  Head.  It  has  already  had  mention  as 
one  of  the  outer  ranj^e  of  coast-lij;hts.  With  seven  other  islands  and  rocks 
(dusten'd  around,  it  forms  a  local  or  "plantation"  },'()vernment,  whi<'li  is  be- 
lieved to  be  the  most  remote  from  land  of  any  on  our  whole  coast.  K;ij,'j;ed 
Island,  Matinicus  IJock,  Wooden  ISall,  Seal  Koi'k.  and  No  Man's  liiiml  are  the 
otlu-rs  that  have  names.  Matinicus  is  wholly  inhabited  by  tishermen.  Its 
insular  (diaracter  is  perhaps  a  little  more  pronounced  even  than  that  ot    Mim- 

hcj^an  ;    but  the  same  f^enerul  features,  either  as  resp«'cts  the  ] pie  nr  their 

island,  are  c(Uumon  to  both.  Kor  a  lonj^  time  the  people  ciime  near  realizing' 
the  golden  world  id'  the  old  writers;  for  they  had  neither  laws  mu'  rulers,  ncu" 
(lid  they  ever  vot<'  in  public  atl'airs,  and  still  lived  happily,  'i'lic  ta.\-.i,'atlierer 
did  not  tro'dile  them.  Iicmaius  of  stone  houses  are  found  on  .Miitinicns.  whose 
builders  are  unknown.  They  belon<,',  doubtless,  to  the  lost  <diapter  of  the 
earliest  fisheries  and  tishinj^-stations.  These  islands  are  a  bad  phice  for  wrecks. 
The  schooner  hhi  C/ /'ore *•  struck  on  Seal  Hock  and  went  to  pieces  in  daiuiary 
of  the  present  year,  the  crew  scalinjjj  the  cliff,  where  they  struck,  with  ditliculty. 

The  direct  route  to  Mount  Desert  now  passes,  first.  tlirouj,'h  the  Fo.\  Islands 
Thorous^hfare,  or  between  \'iii;il  Haven,  ctdebrated  for  its  extensive  granite 
quarries,  and  North  Haven.  Vinal  Haven  lies  about  midway  of  the  entrance 
into  Tenobscot  Hay,  fifteen  miles  from  Ivockland.  There  are  several  good  har- 
bors in  the  Thoroughfare,  besides  Carver's,  at  the  southern  end,  where  the 
princij)al  village  is  located.  The  route  then  crosses  open  water  to  coast  the 
south  side  of  Deer  Isle,  Mark  Island  Light  being  the  landmark  to  the  intricate 
jiassage  through  the  nudtitude  of  islands  cro]»ping  out  on  every  hand  between 
Deer  Isle  and  Isle  •  j  Haut.  At  (Jreen's  Landing  there  are  more  (juarries,  and 
from  here  a  road  crosses  over  to  the  north  shore  at  the  Kggemoggin  Heach. 
From  Green's  Landing  tht^  route  leads  on  aiul  out  into  Blue  Hill  Hay,  meeting 
there  that  coming  down  through  the  K»'ach.  Navigation  among  all  these 
islands  is  extremely  hazardous,  even  to  the  most  skilful  pilots,  when  the  marks 
are  shut  out  by  fog. 


et'v' 


i 

m 


'« 


'  'riioniiistDU  is  naiiKMl  for  (itiicral  .Inlm  Tiiuiuiis.  wlm  ilicd  wliilc  Iciiilinii  our  aniiv  of 
iiivasinn  in  Canada  in  177.').     He  was  a  soldier  of  whom  inucii  was  exitccted. 

•^  Tilt'  story  i.s  toe  loan  for  a  clear  cxi)lanatiou  in  a  few  words.     It  caiiic  near  causinu  an 


250 


TlIK   I'INE-TKEE  COAST. 


L!    iJiJ 


ti 


open  rupture  between  the  rilKriniH  and  their  EiinliHh  partnerH,  ami  did  brinn  ftlM)iit  ime  witli 
Allert<in.     See  Unulfunl,  p.  '2'>'  ft  Hfii. 

"  (Jeiieral  Saiimel  Waldo,  a  nieiciiant  of  HoHton  and  comrade  of  Sir  William  I'epperell  at 
Louinburg.  lliH  dauKlifer  Hannah  married  Crown  Secretary  Klucker,  whoHe  clau^hter  Lury 
married  Knox.  Waldo  ac(iuired  a  eontrollinn  interest  in  the  patent  tiirouf^h  his  elforts  to 
have  Dunljar  Het  aside  (see  preceding  chapter),  lie  hroiifiia  over  (Jerman  and  Scotcii-Irish 
emif.'rants,  started  the  manufacture  of  lime,  built  saw-mills,  etc.  His  deatli  occurred  in  17'>(t, 
while  he  was  in  the  act  of  i»ointinj.'  out  tlie  boundary  of  his  lands  to  (Jovernor  I'ownall.  lie 
was  buried  with  military  lionors  at  Fort  Point,  but  subsecpiently  talten  to  Boston  for  final 
interment. 

*  Tlie  first  defences  were  destroyed  in  rhilip's  War  ;  the  next  wj're  raised  in  17HI-"i()  l)y 
the  proj)rietor8.  "  At  this  pi-riod  there  was  not  a  house  between  (leor^jetown  and  Annapolis, 
X.S.,  except  a  fish-lious(i  on  I )amari.scove  Island."  —  Williamson,  II.  (17.  The  Indians 
Htron^'ly  protested  against  building;  a  fort  here,  and  yielded  only  to  necessity. 

*  As  I  write  tins,  an  effort  is  making  to  have  the  general  government  erect  a  stdtable 
monument  to  this  gallant  soldier. 

*  Cushing  had  its  first  incorporation  in  1780,  and  has  just  celebrated  its  centennial.  It  was 
named  for  Tlioinas  Cusliing,  a  Revolutionary  patriot,  who  obtained  the  lionor  of  a  special 
notice  from  Sam  Johnson  in  "Taxation  no  Tyranny."  lie  was  a  member  of  the  Old  Congress, 
and  lieutenant-governor  of  Massacluisetts.  The  town  was  first  settled  by  Waldo's  Scotcli- 
Irish  emigrants. 

■  This  township  fortunately  retains  the  name  given  by  its  first  discoven-rs,  who  displayed 
the  national  spirit.  It  is  thus  identified  witli  that  interesting  period  when  to  take  pos.session 
of  a  continent  it  was  oidy  necessary  to  set  up  a  cross. 

*  Tlie  manufacture  of  linu*  was  begun  at  Thomaston  by  Samuel  Waldo,  near  where  the 
State  Trison  now  stands.  —  Kato.n's  rhomustuii.  At  Dix  Island  the  manufacture  of  granite 
is  carried  ou  quite  largely. 


?*^*^. 


IM 


THE   EAST  COAST. 


lit 


ill! 


*;    , 

»•! 

MKKIONS    OF    THE    l>!SH>Vi:HV    I'KUIOO. 


C'HMTKK    Will. 


A    NuV.VfiK    TO    \i   ({IMItl'.iiA. 


"  Now  from  tlic  Nortli 
<»f  \oniinl«'i;a  iiiul  ilu-  Sxiiiotd  Slioif. 
Hurstini:  tlitir  luazun  duiiwous.  iiniu'd  willi  ivv." 


Mll.TON. 


WK  «'n»v»'  the  iviulcr's  indul.Ljt'iue  for  a  brief  season,  while  we  turn  aside 
from  tlie  heateii  i»atiis  (if  modern  travtd  into  the  still  obsejire  routes  of 
the  ohl  diseoverers. 

At  hist  we  are  sailiiii^  in  the  famed  waters  of  the  ancient  Norumhega,'  its 
fabulous  city  and  i>eoiile.  of  whom  old  writer;^  liave  so  much  to  say,  and  modern 
writers  say  so  little  that  is  to  t^.e  point.  At  last 
we  are  followin*^'  in  the  track  o.^  sailors  who  lived 
before  the  IMlj^rims  were  burn,  or  Aliltou  had  jienned 
his  tine  tii;ure  in  ••  Paradise  Lost,"  atKxed  to  the  begin- 
nini^  of  this  ehapter. 

Nothing  is  easier  than  to  unsettle  historv.  \ii'l 
everybody  who  breaks  down  an  old  tri>iii<ion  nciw- 
adays  is  said  to  have  iierformed  a  ]ieculiar  service 
to  history. 

We  will,  however,  venture  to  sail  on  in  the  well- 
marked  channel  «»f  our  earliest  faith  and  our  hitest  con- 
victiims.  Chamjtlain  bluntly  says  of  the  Penobscot, 
"Now  this  must  of  necessity  be  the  Norumbi  <;ue."  No 
man  knew  iM'tti-r  than  he  all  the  relations,  aU  the  tra- 
ditions, concerning  it.  We  accept  Inin,  therefons  for 
our  pilot,  tlie  rather  Incau.se  he  know.-^  how  to  separate  the  true  from  the  false, 
the  actual  from  tlu-  fictitiims. 

There  is  little  room  to  doubt  that  the  unknown  and  unsung  fishermen  of 
Normandy,  Hrittany.  and  the  liiscay  provinces  led  the  way  into  our  waters, 
precisely  as  the  hunters  and  trappers  of  our  own  great  plains  made  i)aths  for 
the  so-eaUed  explorer  *>  follow  in,  —  the  d  fference  being  tliat  the  actual  di.s- 
i'overers  kept  no  journals,  and  had  no  frieii.ls  at  court  to  sound  their  praises 
abroad.     No  s)K)ner  was  it  noised  about  that  an  English  ship  had  been  to  a  new 

2<V^ 


l»AV.S    OK    DISCOVKKV. 


■' 


m 


f-i- 


I"" 


■jr,\ 


rilK    riNK-lKKK   COAST. 


ll 

! 


hi 


world  in  the  west,  where  fish  swam  about  so  thickly  that  she  eouhl  scarce 
ploufjfh  her  way  throii<^h  them,  than  these  Normans  of  Dieppe  were  most 
concerned  lest  thi'ir  restless  neit^hltors  of  Saint  Malo.  or  those  rascally  Uascines, 
whose  jargon  the  foul  fiend  himself  could  not  understand,  should  ^'ct  the  start 
of  them.  They  asked  for  neither  royal  jiutent  nor  commission,  charts  nor  sound- 
ings. A  fair  wind  and  plenty  of  it,  a  free  field  and  no  favors,  were  the  sum  of 
their  desires. 

Those  old  voyaj^es  of  discovery  in  which  Spanish,  Portui^uese.  and  Knj,dish 
took  ]>art  are  about  the  most  romantic  episodes  in  our  history.  There  is  so 
much  of  the  sjjirit  of  tvxw  adventure  lanbodied  in  the  act  of  hoistiiifr  sail  for  an 
undiscovered  countrv  ;  so  much  of  noble  enndatiou  in  the  resolve  to  i>lant  the 


fia>' of  one's  own  nation  bcfoi'c  all  other: 


.\nd   then  the  interest  is  so  much 


hei!.,ditened  by  the  knowledf^e  that  a  navij^ator  wa.s  now  and  then  killc(l  and  eaten  I 

First  comes    .lean 
I'armcntier.     of     Di- 


eppe 

the 

tain 


in 


N 


ormaiKlv, 


sea    cai)- 


rreat 


of      Kannisio, 


who  has  printed  in 
his  superb  c(dlection 
a  manuscri[)t  dated  in 
\r>:\\).   and    attributed 


to 


r 


iirmentu'r. 


in 


.Inch    the    nam 


N 


orumheiri 


mentionet 


IS 

in 


first 
any 

printed  work  that  has 

y..t 


come 


to  li<,dit. 
The  writer  of  the 
memoir,  whether  it  be 
I'arnu-nticr  himself  or 
his  admiring  friend 
and  ('(tmrade,  IMcrre 
Crij^non,  says  that 
Nonnube<fa  was  dis- 
covered by  Verrazano, 
wlio  took  ])ossession 
of  it  in  the  nanu'  of 
the  kiuf,'.  Francis  I., 
and  of  tlie  regent,  Louis*'  de  Savoy.  Duchess  of  Angouleme.  and  mother  of  tluf 
king.  Naptdeon  said  of  her  tliat  she  was  the  only  man  of  her  family.  The 
menu)ir,  or  relation,  further  asserts  tliat  'N'orumbega  was  the  name  by  whicli 
the  natives  called  their  country.  There  is  a  very  etirious  nmp  {U'eoni])anying 
it,  iMul  the  voyage  to  which  it  refers  must  have  followed  close  upon  Verrazano's, 
of  lii'24,  as  Parmentier  died  at  sea  in  ir»L'9. 


8AMUEI.   (  IIAMI'I  AIN. 


A    V()VA(;K   to    NOIJlMUKliA. 


Jean  Alf'oiisc.  callctl  the  Saiiitniitjcois.  was  contfiiiiioiarv  with  W'rra/.aiio, 
I'aniu'iititT,  and  CartitT.  wIkisc  (liscovci-ics  li«'  would  scciii  tn  have  lu-cii  dt-siioiis 
nf  emiilutiii^'.  His  suniaiac  of  Sainton^^cctis  idciititics  him  with  that  Iruittul 
ohl  |ir(ni::i-»'  in  tiif  Wfst  ol  !•' ranee,  that  in  hiter  times  ,<,MVe  De  Monts  and 
('hami>lain  t(i  the  eause  oi'  American  edhnii/atiitn. 

Our  juili,'iiient  of  All'onse  is  liased  lar^^ely  upon  the  veidiet  (d"  writers  id"  his 
time.  The  sonnets  and  other  euhij,dstie  verse  achiressed  to  idm  hear  witness  to 
our  day  how  high  ..(V  uentil  .apitaiue  .le  m.r" 

stood  in  tlie  ](0|»nlar  esteem.  So  also  to  these  perforiaanees  we  owe  alxmt  all 
we  know,  or  are  liliely  to  know,  of  .Vlt'onse's  lite,  through  the  scanty  serajis 
of  ]K>rsonal  history,  thrown  in  at  hazurd,  and  to  whi(di,  no  (h)ubt,  the  poet  him- 
self attached  the  h-ast  importance. 

Uesides  these  poetical  effusions,  of  which  he  is  the  suhject,  .\lfonse  has  left 
a  manuscript  '•riisiiinijnijthi/."  e(tmp(tse(l  or  dictated  liy  himself,  Ix-aring  date  in 


I 


MAIM     MVI.O. 


l.">|."».  which,  no  douht.  served  as  the  foundation  for  the  very  rare  and  curious 
little  vohime,  edited  l>y  a  strange  hand,  and  printed  in  l."».V.>.  with  the  title 
••Voyages  Aventureux  ilu  Caiiitaine  dean  Alphonse  Saintongeois."  Its  p\dtli- 
cation  is  due  to  Saiiit-(iidais  and  .lean  dc  Marnef. 

When  Ikoherval  followed  ('artier  to  Canada,  as  the  king's  viceroy,  Alfonse 
was  master-pilot  of  the  expedition.  In  tiie  cosmography  refern*d  to  he  a.s,sert.s 
that  he  had  been  into  a  hay  as  far  as  the  4'_M  degree,  lying  Itetween  NiU'umhega 
and  I'Morida ;  hut  not  having  seandied  it  to  the  liottom.  he  coidd  not  wtdl  say 
whether  this  liay  joined  Norundiega  with  Florida  or  not.  .M'ter  descrihing  the 
orundtega,  .Mfonse  goes  ou  to  say  that  '•up  the  said  river. 


caiM'  anil  river  o 


)f  N 


;'l 
Hfteen  leagues,  there  is  a  town  which  is  called  Noromhegue,  and  there  is  in  it  a 

g(Mtd  jieople,  and  they  have  many  peltrii's  of  many  kinds  of  furs."     The  iiihahi- 

tants,  he  telhs  us,  w«'re  dusky. 

.Vlfonse  may  well  Im'  pardoned  some  exaggerations,  and  even  inconsistencies. 

for  the  sak»'  «d'  the  truths  he  has  told.     It  was  a  credulous  age,  in  which  tlu* 


w 


•jm 


Tin:    IMNK-THKK   COAST. 


lalmloiis  held  lull  sway.  What  is  (u'rtaiii  is,  that  .Vltonse's  (h'scriptions,  or 
(It'lincatioiis,  of  tlu"  coast  itself  t'ual»h'<l  suhst'ciuont  explorers,  like  ('liaiiiplaiii. 
to  identify  the  river  of  Noruiubej^a  with  the  I'enoh.seot.  So  loiii;  as  .Mfoiise 
sticks  ti>  his  r»Me  of  pilnt.  one  may  follow  him  without  misi^iviu},' :  when  lie 
attempts  g»)iJig  up  rivers  and  exploring  the  country,  lie    is  all  at  sea.      In  tlie 

words  of  the  witty  editor  of 
"  IludiWras,"  "Cosniograithi'rs. 
in  their  descriptions  (d'  the 
world,  when  they  find  many 
vast  places  of  which  tiiey 
know  nothing,  are  used  to  lill 
the  same  with  an  account  of 
Indian  plantations,  strange 
birds.  l»e;usts.  etc."  It  is  to 
he  observed  that  while  our 
modern  historians  jmt  aside 
such  things  with  one  hand,  as 
all  idle  tales,  they  invariably 
set  them  down  with  the  other 
to  enlivi'u  their  pages.  |5iit 
these  stories  of  demons,  mer- 
men, s»'a-serpents,  and  otiier 
monsters  are  like  the  wine 
fornu'rly  served  oiit  at  fu- 
nerals; they  hidp  to  icconcilc 
us  to  the  decrees  i>f  Providence. 
I'lace  for  .\ndre  ThevtM. 
Aug(»\nuois,  the  chajilain  of 
Catherine  de  Medicis,  the 
eom]ianion  of  Villegagnon  in 
his  voyage  of  l.Vt.l,  to  ISia/il. 
and  autlior  of  a  e(»smography 
written  in  the  spirit  of  the 
time;  that  is  to  say.  (piite  as 
destitute  of  seiem'e  Jis  of  phi- 
lo.sophy  I 

It  is  not  improper  to 
scan  this  writer's  credentials 
a  little.  "IlewiLs  of  an  exce.ssivo  erodulity."  says  M.  \Veiss;  to  whi»'h  Larousse 
adds,  "To-day  th«'  'Voyages  of  Thevrt.'  placed  in  the  rank  of  those  of 
Mare  Lescarbot,  and  become  rare,  are  regarded  oidy  as  drolleries,  everywhere 
fiill  of  luimor."  And  again,  "He  speaks  only  after  the  home-made  tales  of 
sailors  or  passengers,  who  often  anuised  themselves  at  his  expense." 

The  ship  in  which  Tht;v^'t  took  passage  home  to  FraiK-i-  ran  up  the  coast  as 


A    V()VA(JK   TO   N()mMHK(iA. 


2o7 


far  as  Newfoundland,  or  "  Racn-alaos,"  as  it  was  of  toner  called  by  sailors.  After 
sjx'aking  of  Florida,  Thevt^'t  j^oes  on  to  say  that  ''one  of  the  finest  rivers  in  the 
whole  world  presents  itself,  which  W(!  call  Xorend)ej^ne,  and  the  natives  Atjjoney, 
and  which  is  marked  on  some  diarts  as  the  (Jraud  Kivcr.  Scvi-ral  other  lieanti- 
fnl  rivers  enter  into  it;  and  upon  its  l)anks  the  French  formerly  erected  a  little 
fort,  about  ten  or  twelve  lea},Mies  froni  its  mouth,  which  was  surrouiKh'd  by 
fresh  water,  and  this  place  was  called  the  Fort  of  Xorumbcijm'." 

Notwithstanding,'  Thevi't  has  been  hitherto  classed  with  those  who  li«'  not 
wisely,  but  too  well,  his  account  of  the  more  pronounced  features  of  I'enoliscot 
r»ay  is  sutiiciently  accurate  to  disarm  criticism  with  respect  to  much  more  that 
is  either  (htwnrij^iit  nonsense  uv  l»old  invention.  One  thiui,',  however,  Tin' vjf't 
has  said  before  anyone  else.  He  was  the  very  first  person  to  formulate  tlie 
name  of  New  Fnj,'land.  In  speakinj^  of  Cabot's  voyaj^e,  in  his  '•  Siuj^ularitez  de 
la  France  Antarti(iue,"  TlKnot  renuirks  tliat  the  Kuf^lish  navi^'ator  purposed 
j^oinj^  to  America  "to  people  the  (;ountry  with  new  inhal)itants  and  to  establish 
there  a  New  England." 

I'roofs  crowd  uj)on  us  that  Norunibega  was,  first  of  all,  a  region  of  unlimite<l 
extent,  reaching  from  Cape  Ilreton  to  Florida,  next  contracted  so  as  to  endjracie 
what  are  now  New  England  and  Nova  Scotia,  and  finally  to  the  territ(uy  com- 
prised between  the  Kennebec  and  Saint  John,  but  always  covering  the  greater 
part  of  .Maine.  With  the  scant  aid  of  what  was  taken  down  from  the  lips  of 
roving  sailors,  the  nuip-makers  of  the  sixteenth  century  contiiuied  to  rectify 
frnm  time  tt)  time  our  ruch'  coast  line,  or  embellish  their  parchments  with 
drawings 

"Of  all  lliosf  lu'iists,  iiml  tisii,  and  fowl. 

With  wliii'h.  like  Indian  plantations. 

The  learni'd  Hto(!k  tin-  nuisU'llations." 

Hut  Champlain  was  the  first  to  destroy  the  lu-evailing  delusion,  under  which 
he  himself  had  labored,  touching  this  great  river  of  Norumbega.  It  is  to  him 
we  owe  our  first  accurate  aiicount  of  its  coasts  and  ])eople.  The  nanu^  that  had 
so  long  held  a  place  on  the  maps,  or  in  the  old  relations,  like  that  of  the  (Jreat 
Anu-rican  Desert  of  our  own  time,  for  instantre,  —  our  unich-vaunted  tinu', — 
vanished  witli  the  illusions  of  which  it  was  an  insei)aral)le  part.  .Viid  with 
Champlain.  Dame  History,  now  sure  of  her  ground,  marches  complacently  on 
over  a  well-lighted  route. 


•  I^oubts  have  1>p«mi  raiHcd  as  tn  wlicthcr  the  I'cnobscot  is  the  tmc  Nommbojta  of  Vcrra- 
zano,  I'arincntiiT,  Hut.  .Mfonsc,  Tlicvftt,  Sir  II.  (iilhcrt.  and  others.  Like  a  piod  many  iiis- 
tciiical  (nu'stions  upon  wliieli  (i])ini<in  has  lu'conie  .settled,  this  one  has  lately  been  re-opened, 
and  all  the  old  evidence  submitted  to  new  tests  and  new  aru'uments.  desif^ned  to  overturn  the 
old  belief  and  install  the  new.  .\  careful  collation  of  this  evidence  inakeHone  of  the  strongest 
presiunjttive  cases  in  favor  of  the  I'enobsrot  I  liave  ever  known.  So  far  as  its  location  is  con- 
cerned. Xoruinbefia  is  the  one  initial  point  on  the  North  Atlantic  coast,  about  which  the  early 
inai>-inakerH  are  all  agreed,  which  we  readily  identify,  and  to  which  subseciuent  and  better 


w 


258 


THE   IMXK-TRKK  CuAST. 


ilt'liiicatidii  of  tlic  coast,  as  disi-nveiy  fXti'inli-il  itst-lf.  is  l)m  ilu-  lu'ttfi'  sUiipiui;  out  of  the  cnidf 
ori;;iiial.  'I'lic  iiitVreiuu' is  irrfsistible  that  NcwfniiiullaiKl.  witli  the  (iulf  of  Saint  Lawrcinv, 
ami  its  coiitiitiioiis  coasts  of  C;\\>v  Urcton  ami  Nova  Scotia,  was  tlic  pivot  of  licourapiiical  licvd- 
ol>imiit  ill  this  i|iiartcr.  Ami  the  history  of  tin-  tislurics  shows  how  this  state  of  tilings  caim- 
alioiit. 

Assmiiinii  that  '•  NormnlH'iia"  must  of  necessity  I>ea  word  of  native  orii^in,  it  has  been  iiip-d 
that  it  should  he  applied  accordim;  to  the  genius  of  alioriixinal  tonuiies  ;  tiiat  is  to  say,  to  some 
marked  i;i'o;,n'apliicai  feature,  or  sonu- ])<-culiar  means  of  identilicatiou.  rather  than  to  a  coun- 
try. It  would  seem  to  concern  tis  more  to  know  what  the  name  stood  for  with  naviiiators  and 
cosmi>i,'fai)hers  of  the  time,  than  what  we  may  think  it  ouiiht  to  mean  at  the  present  day.  <>n 
all  the  eaiMest  maps  NorumlicLta  is  always  a  country.  The  evidence  offeicil  th;il  ••  Noruniheua  " 
is  Indian  is  at  most  inconclusive.  Itoth  llakhiyt  and  Thev^>i  assert  that  it  is  not  Indian.  The 
concludini;  syllahle.  as  written  l>y  Krendi  authorities,  means  a  staniiurrcr.  .Vtti'Ution  is  also 
called  to  the  name  of  the  city  of  Nurend>i-r;:.  in  Uavaria.  which  takes  in  Spanish  the  form  of 
Nnromherua.  and  in  l.iilin  and  Italian  that  of  Norimherv'a.  <  Mi  linscelli's  map  of  I'liil.  tlu^ 
name  Nurumlieru  is.  in  fact,  attached  to  ijie  region  in  i|nestion. 


^ 


rilK    IHM  KI.ANK    STVfil.. 


CHAI'TKK    XIX. 

PKN'OBSCOT    HAY    ASM)    ITS    Mttl'NTAIN    roASTS. 

••  And  like  a  lobstt-r  boilM.  the  iimiii 
Frniii  lilack  to  ltd  lu'uan  to  turn."  —  Ri'tlkk. 

THF"^  liistory  of  our  most  famous  \vati'riiig-i)l!i(U's  would  be  no  ba*I  abstract 
iiud  brit'f  chroiiielt'  of  the  advancf  the  nation  is  makin«,'  in  wealth  and 
retinement,  in  improved  means  of  locomotion,  in  the  breaking  down  of  sectional 
barriers,  er  of  that  i»eculiar  triit  of  the  national  character  whicli  makes  the 
American  the  greatest  traveller  on  earth. 

Many  of  us  can  remember  when  Xahaiit  and  Newport  were  the  two  fashion- 
able watering-places  ^)rtr  ea:tW/p»re  of  the  New  England  coast,  when  steamshii)s 
crossed  the  ocean  but  twice  a  month,  and  when  a  journey  by  rail  was  an  epoch 
in  a  man's  lif<'. 

Such  comparisons  enable  us  fairly  to  appreciate  tlw  narrow  limits  in  which 
our  grandfathers  and  grandmothers  moved  about  in  (piest  of  those  recreations 
whitdi  have  become  a  second  nature  to  their  descendants,  and  they  also  prepare 
us  for  the  ecpiall}'  limited  knowledge  concern'ng  those  things  lying  outside  of 
that  narrow  <!ircle  in  which  our  elders  travelled  year  in,  year  out.  Old  fashions 
hold  their  own  much  better  than  ohl  ways  of  travel.  Directoire  lK)nnets,  short 
waists,  long  gloves,  and  reticules  come  round  again,  at  stated  jieriods,  like  the 
coniets ;  but  the  canal-boat  and  stage-coach  in  which  our  grandams  and  grand- 

25» 


'  SI 

i 


w 


2m 


11  IK    lMNi;-ri{KK   CUAST. 


r  ^i 


1) 


I 


sires  made  their  summer  jaunts  to  Newpurt  or  Jiallston  Spa  have  finally  gone 
down  the  coasts  of  time  to  return  no  more. 

Under  the  old  regime,  be  it  said,  fashion  followed  the  dictum  of  certain 
leath'rs.  with  tin-  passive  obedience  of  a  subjt'ct  who  feels  himself  bound  to 
upliold  the  prerogative  of  his  nuister  at  all  hazards. 

.Mr.  N.  P.  Willis,  who  was  the  unerov.Mied  autocrat  of  the  fashionable  world 
of  his  day.  —  and  his  day  seems  but  yesterday  to  some  of  us,  —  coldly  sets  down 
the  following  dictum  touching  our  (Udectalde  eastern  coast.  It  is  well  worth 
reproducing  as  one  of  the  curiosities  of  literature,  though  it  does  seem  just  a 
tritie  odd  that  Willis,  the  traveller,  should  have  known  so  much  about  the  Ober- 
laml  and  the  ICngadine,  and  .so  little  about  the  region  where  lu;  was  born. 
Hejir  him  :  — 

*•  Very  much  the  same  sort  (d'  incrediditv  with  whi(!h  one  reads  a  travtdler's 
a(!count  of  the  deliciousness  »if  the  Russian  summer  comes  over  him  (miihjrt'  all 
the  intormation  to  the  contrary)  when  it  is  proposed  to  him  to  adnuri'  any- 
thing so  near  the  cradle  (d"  the  east  wind  as  the  Pencdjscot  River;  ...  in  point 
of  fact,  when  l*enol>scot  Rivei  is  mentioned,  we  shudder  at  our  renieml)rani'e 
of  the  acrid  blasts  that  havi'  swe|)t  over  us  from  that  tpiarter,  and  image 
the  scenery  fortli-drest  in  the  drapery  so  well  described  by  the  caiitain  of  a 
I'enobscot  whaler, — a  log  so  thick  that  having  driven  his  jack-knife  into  it  on 
the  eve  of  .sailing  for  the  I'acitic,  he  found  it  sticking  in  the  .same  spot  on  his 
return  from  a  three  years'  cruise." 

Now  it  is  (pute  safe  to  say  that  when  Willis  shuddered,  all  the  world  oi 
fashion  shuddered,  too;  nor  can  we  wonder  that  his  illustrative  witti<'ism  should 
have  giv«'n  the  finishing  stroke,  so  to  speak,  to  that  bleak  '"cradle  of  east 
winds."'  in  winch  he  himself  had  been  rocked,  as  it  went  the  rounds  of  the 
drawing-rooms,  albeit  the  je.st  itself  had  already  made  st'veral  voyages  round 
Cape  Horn. 

It  took  years,  however,  for  our  eastern  coast  to  livt'  down  a  slander  emanat- 
ing from  such  high  authority,  and  consigning  it  so  definitely  to  the  limbo  of 
waste  places.     l>ut  as  the  lamented  Rryant  has  said,  — 

"Truth  onislu'd  to  eartli  will  rise  afjiiin''  • 

so  we  have  lived  to  see  the  blighting  proi)hecy  return  to  plague  its  inventors. 

All  this  time  we  have  Ik'cu  seeing  the  nine  miles  of  shore  extending 
between  CauKh-n  and  Rt)ckland  glide  swiftly  by  us.  And  what  a  shore  it  is! 
Al)ove  us  th(»  Camden  Mountains  stand  for  a  landmark  at  the  western  [)ortal  of 
renobscot  Ray,  very  much  as  the  .Mount  Desert  range  does  at  the  eastern 
portal,  and  all  between  them  of  bays,  harbors,  islands,  or  sounds  nuist,  at  no 
distant  day,  become  the  summer  honu*  of  thousands  of  those  peoph*  who 
sensibly  carry  their  home  life  along  with  them.  We  have  now  no  class  so 
unappreciative  im  not  to  demand  something  of  the  pietures(pu»  in  their  sur- 
roundings. And  whe  '  shall  these  conditions  be  looked  for  if  not  in  this  always 
charming  bay  '.' 


C9 


lit^ 


IM;\n|JS((t|'    MAY    AM)    IIS    (  HAS  TS. 


L'('.;i 


Not  only  is  IN'Mohsfut  \\i\\  iit  a  cfrtiiiu  sense  the  ilistiu^Miisliiuj^  j,'eoj,'ni|»liie;il 
feature  of  the  whoh*  Maine  eoast.  hut  we  have  seen  tliat  it  is  e<[ually  notulth' 
tor  the  wealth  of  its  historical  associations,  wliieli  •,'••  tar  liack  into  the  ilini 
twiliLrht  of  (liscuverv  ami  exitloration.  and  iiave  eoiue  dnwu  tn  >is  s|iiee(l 
with  all  the  romance  ol  a  wouder-inN  in;,'  aL^e. 

Taken  as  a  whole,  the  scenic  features  of  this  hay  are  Lrracclul  rather  than 
hold,  sui,',Ljestive  of  calm  rather  tlian  riotous  commotion.  \i>\[  will  Mt)t  see 
the  full  play  of  ocean  as  you  would  aloui,'  the  more  exposed  coasts,  or  find 
here  those  louj;  levels  of  vdeamiiii,'  sand  that  echo  to  the  miu'litN  tread  (d  the 
free  Atlantic;  hut  yo\i  will  always  have  j^reeii  islands,  nolile  mountains, 
and  invitini;  harltors  on  every  hand  —  the  sea  shorn  of  its  terntrs,  tin'  land 
diveated  of  its  harsh  and  hideous  features. 


Tin;    (    VMhKN    MOCMAINS. 

The  north  shore,  when  one  has  passed  out  <d'  IJocklaml  Harhor.  shows 
unmistakahh-  sif,'ns  of  a  stimulant  {growth.  The  new  resort  at  May  Point 
is  especially  noticealilc.  ( Mic  falls  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  these 
velvety  undulations  (d  smooth  shore  land,  after  seeini,'  t';"  loui^  lea,i,Mics  of 
unsif^jlitly  letlges  that  tear  their  way  throu^jh  the  thin  crust  id'  soil.  Hi-re 
all  is  sunny  and  .i,'reen  (piite  down  to  the  water's  ed<;e.  Trees  ijrow.  Mowers 
hloom.  and  j^ardens  and  j^roves  pr«)«daim  a  more  u'cnial  climate;  nor  an  we 
insensihle  to  the  <dian<,'e  from  the  raspini,'  liree/es  o|  the  open  sea  to  the  softer 
and  mttre  j^entle  winds  that  come  otf  the  land. 

We  tirst  look  into  liockport.'  ;in  out-villa,i;e  of  Camden,  where  lime-<piarryin^ 
and  lime-lmruing  is  '    *■■  nsively  carried  on.     There  is  a  stron;,'  dash   of  pictur- 


1 

I.. 

!  i 


fl 


u 


I 


'JM 


TIIK    IMNK-IKKE   COAST. 


esfjiu'iu'SH  abtmt  this  villiiijo.  in  tlif  Iiaidiazanl  way  tliat  tin-  liouscs  arc  pfrrhcd 
oiif  altovc  iinothtT  all  ,iU>u^  tin-  K'"'K''  <livi(liiii,'  it.  ami  tiic  lil'c  ami  aiiiiiiatiini 
ii'wm  to  it  l»y  tiic  strt'aiu  that  cuim's  timiiiliii;,'  duwii  this  j,'nrjrc. 

Iliit  conn'  with   mo   iii»w,  jjrarious   rcailtT,   ti»  the   immiitains   that    Iikuh   s(» 
j^ramlly  over  yonder  woodi-il  |Kiint.      Wf  aro  j?<»in!,'  to  cntrr  npon  an  entirely 
new  ex]»erienee.      liOiii,'   enoui,'h   they  havo   played   at    hide-and-seek    with   us 
oni  afar.      To-day  we  lay  claim  to  a  closer  companionship. 

CanKh'ii  llarlior'-'  is 


tinely      hn-ked      in      Ite- 

tween  two  jnttinjj 
points  of  land,  one 
hi.i,di.  the  other  low, 
with  a  pretty  little 
wooded  island  deftly 
dropped  in  at  the  en- 
tranee.  Nejjro  Island 
is  its  name.  The  har- 
lior  li.Ljht  stands  un 
this  island.  Hack  of 
this,  the  mountains 
rise  so  m-ar  at  hand 
that  the  village  spires 
are  thrown  up  against 
them  ill  strong'  relied', 
tlioilj,di  hotli  houses 
and  steeples  are  di- 
minished to  the  size 
of  toys  by  the  lr.ilj.,dii<,' 
and  overhaiitiinij  mass 
of  Mount  r.attie.  which 
lifts  its  bare,  bluish 
gray  crags  hundreds 
of  feet  above  them 
all.     It  is  North  Conway  anion;.'-  the  hills  again:  it  is  Camden  by  the  sea. 

The  village  (dusters  mostly  about  the  head  of  the  harbor,  where  the  business 
centre  is  located,  ships  are  built,  and  lime  burned  ;  but  it  also  follows  the  course 
of  the  curving  shores,  or  stretc|j(>s  along  the  breezy  mountain  sides,  or  goes  back 
into  the  pretty  and  secdndt d  valleys  liehind  them,  where  there  are  .so  many 
pictures(pie  spots.  Its  old  life  drew  it  toward  the  c(mntrv ;  its  new  draws  it 
back  towanl  the  sea.  A  Camden  shopkeeper  sits  in  his  door,  and  looks  out 
upon  the  vessels  constantly  passing  and  repassing  the  harbor,  (ptite  as  a  city 
man  would  at  the  splendid  turnouts  of  his  avenue  at  home,  only  this  highway 
is  broader,  perfectly  noiseless,  and  never  gets  out  of  repair.     Sails  bathed  in 


IIKCKI'OIIT    IIASIN.     I.OOKINIi     TOWAIIK    «>\VI 


IIK\|i. 


i'i;m»us((H'  hav  and  irs  (KAsrs. 


!•(•.-• 


Hiiiisliim-  liHik  likt'  clntli  nt  j^dltl;  masts  iiiul  ropes,  likf  cdltwrbs  bonit'  aloii^'  liv 
tlio  Itrcf/f. 

Sniiii'  vcrv   line    vessels    liiiVf    lieell    Ituilt    ilt    iSciUl's    sliipyaid     liere  ;    iiliioii}; 
otlu'TS  the  Mif/ir  a.  liimni',  ii  t'uur-iuastetl   seliutiiier.  ami  I  lie  lar;^vst  one  »i|    her 

class  ever   laiiliehed    in    .Maine   ii|i  to   the 
time  she  was  set   alliiat  ;   Imt    her  career 


r'lxii'  ; -r^ ■>?:-'''         r^,^y'     WHS  short,  i'ur  she  was  lost  in  a  hiirrieaiie 
-^  ^^^/>/^'^>^  /  '  |i;;ia^'    ilt  sea  while  oil  her  first  voya,y;e. 

'''       -'-/^^       '/"^X-   'rl'fy^  Camden  is  om-  ol'  the  later  aspirants 


for  ])ul)lie   iavor.       ( »iie   eaniMit   lielp   re- 
markiiiLC    the    capaliilities    of    tin-    place 
iiK.\i>  OK  Tin;  iiAitiioK.  in    this    direction,    let    him    he    ever    s(» 

devoted  a  lover  of   the  wilder  aspects  of 

the    o])en    coast.       The  mountains  jrive  to  Camden   a    distinction  all   its  own. 

Tlicre  is  a  wondrous  fascination  aliout  uiouiitaiws;    an  endless   charm  in  the 

sea.     Where  both  are  to  he  had  in  a  sin,i,de  h)cality.  the  m-  plnx  tiltni  of   one's 

desires  in  this  direction  would  seem  to  he  realized. 

-Mt'Kunticook Ms  the  principal  summit.     .\rakinK  the  ascent  is  not  ditticult 

enough  to  deter  even  the  most  timid  climher.     Tt  he<,'ins  with  a  promenade. 

and  ends  in  a  .scrand)le,  which  continues,  liowever,  for  a  few  hundred  feet  only. 

For  half  tlu!  way  we  walked  on,  (pjite  at  our  ease.  throu<,di  a  ,t,'rass-«,M-own  forest 

road,  {j;uidcd  hy  the  eourst'  of  a  brook  that  came  tumbling'  down  the  mountain's 


-IJ 


'_'r,r. 


rilK    I'INK-'IHKK   COAST. 


If) 


Mc 


fl 


II 


fla.shcil    lor- 

|iaiiiitii.s  ; 

tiisslo 


Hank.      Ilt-n- tlif  ;,':iy  spirits  (if  tin*  rliiiilKTS.  wlmsc   i»ictm'<'snnc  rostiiiiK's  <;ave 

a  most  ••iilivt'iiiii^'  I'lTcct  to  llic  dark  grcfii  ol   tlic  woods,  !ri'i|iifiitly  liiokt;   forth 

in  .snat.clifs  <if  sonj;,  which  woidd  lie  takfu  \\]t  all  ahtii;^'  thi*  rout*-,  and  <Mdiocd 

hack  hy  the  mountain  itself.    The  im|iulsivc  ones 

ward  with  disdainful  looks  at  their  shtw(  •  coni- 

the  more  diseii-et  saved  themselves  for  the 

they   knew  was  only  deterred.      In  this 

manner,  the  jirocession  i,'railually  elon-  ■'"■•" 

ifated  itself    in   iiroportion  as  the  •  i,*,',^>^ 

aset'Ut  j^rew  steeper,  initil  one      '■•■'.■■■■■-     '^■' '':''■. 

could  see  a  little  knot    here,  ji^}l!*-M^'-'^i^- 

toilinj,'    up    the   hi;;hest 

eraj,'s.  or  a  straj^<;ler        — — -'-^*Tifs»w3»*)«?^  '* '"  " 

there.  sto|(pin^  to 

take      hreath,  _«..«^ 

miriiiK  tin-  ..^.^iaMt^SKirwij^jii; 

•  idar^,'- 


^^^•r-or^^ 


>* 


"'"'     "'  wnile  ail- 

eonstantly 

^'  in<^  view.    (  Mir 

*?        advanced    detach- 

fT-*       meiit     was,     I     ^M-ieve 

V,  T.'        to  .say,  near  Immiij,'  routed 

l»y  a  devil's  darnin^'-needle 

that    whi/zed     through     them 

,  II  ,     ^       .  lil<«'  ii    rifle-imllet.  eausim,'  a  dis- 

"//•'///  '      orderly    retreat     to     he^in    upon    the 

/'^■'■■/  '   re.scrves.      It    was  solemnlv   declared,   hv 

^ff       ■/"  way  of  excuse,  that  if  one  Hew  in  \our  laec, 

it   would   sew   up  your  eyes  with   its   needle.       I'oor   harmless  dra!,'on-||y.  with 

your  halNton's  fa<-e  and  '^v\'\\\   !.fo}^j,de-eyes,  jiow   much  appearances  are  aijainst 

you  I 

Itiit  what  a  di'lieious  paiKU'ama  is  that  the  siimniii  unfolds!  .\iid  how  soon 
all  fati;;ne  was  forj;<ttten  in  tlie  majesty  cd'  the  .scene  spread  out  iH-neath  us  I 
I'ifteeii  hiliiilred  feet  helow  hiy  islaiid-st  lidded  hay  and  lilue-vaillted  oci-aii  : 
hay  and  (M-ean  ail  one  <;reat  riilHe<l  plain  (d'  sparklin^^  topaz,  strewn  ahoiit  with 
islands  of  i-mcrald,  set  in  m-eklaees  of  foam  ;  islands  upon  islands,  from  ^'ray 
Monhe<;an  to  dim  \'«uiit  i)esert;  shores  dotted  with  villa;,'es  and  farms  from 
smoky  liocklaiid  to  drowsy  Castine;  ponds  sparkling  like  '^^'\\\i>,  anions  the 
crowilin^j  woods;  the  land  rollini,'  hack  into  the  shaj,'i;y  in»rth,  streaked  with 
hri^ditness  where  .sonn'  cleared  spot  let  in  the  sunshine,  nr  s<uue  lake  ^jlcamed 
out  of  its  shadow  and  }^doom.  Itet  all  dark  and  sad  where  the  forest  lifts  its 
Inline  hillows  a^^ainst  fhehiui/on  in  such  mark(Ml  contrast  with  the  ocean  hehind 
us.  And  last,  hut  no»  least,  heyond  uU,  yet  over  all,  there  stiMid  misty  Katah- 
din  and  tliew  the  j,'reat  White  Nhuintains,  at  the  east  and  the  west,  diminished 
hy  distance  to  such  little  clumps  of  tents  or  mounds  that  one  scarce  iMdieved 
Mcj^'.utifOdk  was  only  a  larj^c  hill  l»y  comparison. 


1  m 
''11 'W' 

It  I*'/'  J." 

w 


I 


w 


'i 


i 


l'KNnUS<;oT   II A V    AND    Us    CUASTS. 


!.'«;«> 


Tlif  wrsfiTii  siilr  of  Mi-^iiiilii'iMik  is  lintkfii  <|m\vii  iniiiiv  liiiinli-fil  IVct.  in 
|inTi|ii)<iiis  clilTs,  wiislii-il  ;it  llii-ir  li'tt,  Ity  Mfj^mil  itdnU  l/ikf,  a  lifaiit  il'iil  slufl 
ol  w:il.i-i',  ri'Miii  wliirli  a  i-Iimi-  strtMin  linws  oiit.  tlirmi^li  tin-  villa^r  iiiln  IIh- 
liarlinr.  I''riiiii  ( 'aiii<li-ii,  niic  may  tliiv*-  arntiiid  lli<-  hasi-  nl  tlii-si*  clitlH  ainl  liy  tin- 
.slini-rs  ol'  tliis  laki\  so  iiiakiti^  tin-  rirniil.  ot  Mi-;<itiit  iruok,  to  tin-  liay  slion- 
aK<'iiii  ;  :>iiii  tin  lake 
iisrlf  is  licfoiiiiii;;  a 
lavorilc  ri'soit,  lor  all 
Hiiiiiiiii-r  i'i-^ii|iMits. 

'I'liiis  <!aiiiili-ii  li:iH 
its  SfiTt't.  nooks  as  wt-ll 
its  its  lair  uimI  o|ii>ii 
fX|iaiisi's  ol'  liliii<  water. 
Till'  tlnvt's  alon^{  tin* 
slion-sol  tin'  ltay,i'itlicr 
soiilliwanl  as  lav  as 
ikorklaiitl  or  iiortliwaDJ 
as  I'ar  as  jti-Ha^t,  arc 
scarn-ly  i-i|iiall)-i|  in 
tlif  wliolf  ran^*■  ol 
roast.. 

I  saw  our  otiirr  I'ratlirr  hrrr 
at  ('aniilrii  as  notirt-aiilr  as  it.  is 
rap',  an<l  as  a^'m-aldi-  as  it  was 
iinlookril  lor.  (^iiitr  :i  lar^'r  part 
ol'  Slirriiian's  roint  tin-  onr 
rrarliiii^'  roiinil  iIm-  nortli  siilr  ol 
tlir  liarWor  —is  rovrrnl  with  a 
plantat  ion  ol'  oaks,     -  (,'rrat.  stalrly 

trrcs  ol  antiipir  ((rowtli  anil  nolilr  >,Mrtli,  wlirrr  onr  looks  lor  sonir  stra\  staj; 
to  lirrak  through  llir  tliirkrt.or  lirar  llir  Imntsiiian  wiml  liis  liorn.  Onr  ran 
nrvri'  ijiiitr  ili\r.st,  our  jorr.st.s  of  |tiiiit  ami  lir  ol  a  rrrtain  hinrnal  Irrlin^',  so 
n'.spoli.sivr  arr  \vr  to  llir  To cr  ol  assiH-iat ion ;  lull  tlirsr  Itravr  o|i|  oaks,  llir 
sfiinly  lypr  ol  a  st.iinly  rare,  I'liariu  us  with  iiirnioiir.s  ol'  Nirliolas  I'oii.ssin'.s 
harrliaiialiaii  rrvrl.s,  of  Koliiii  Hooir.s  Mrrry  Mrn,  or  ol  tlir  i Munis'  luystir 
rilrs. 

I  was  Hot.  a  littlr  siirprisrtl  to  lin<l  t.lii*s«t  proves  orru|tir)|  Ity  Hliiilriils  or 
^iii'luali's  ol  tlir  Casliiir  Normal  Srhool,  w  lio  lia<l  In-imi  in  tin-  lialiit  ol'  jtilrliin;,' 
tlirir  siiniiiirr  ramp  lirrr  lor  many  yrars.  Wlu-n  I  a^knl  thnii  why  tliry 
ilr.srrtril  llirir  own  lavoiril  ItH-ality,  wliirli  so  many  ronsiilrr  tlir  uUimn  T/nili- 
ol  Nlliiiliirr  rrsorts,  I  rrrrivnl  tlir  rhaiaitrrisi  ir  rrply  tliat  t.lirrr  was  siirli 
a  tiling  as  knowing  a  pliutr  too  wril,  ami  that  iiovrlly  wax  tliii  Hall  ami  savor  ol 
iiiu*'h  iiilr  hours  rvrii  mont  tliaii  of  oiir's  artivi)  pursuits. 


_   i 

l.\  I. MM.     IS     I  Ml      II  \  lltsoli. 


•    t\ 


1'70 


TlIK    I'lXK-TllKK   COAST. 


i 


Hi 


1 

WH 

«^f 


From  ('anideii  one  may  eitlicr  coast  the  slioros  of  the  hay  as  far  up  as  Fort 
Point,  where  it  narrows  to  a  river  seareely  h'ss  h«'autiful.  or  tiiriiini;  asith-  from 
tlie  travt'lled  route  to  r»aii.i,'or.  may  strike  lM»hlly  out  across  the  l»ay,  toward 
lslesl)orou};h,*  an  ishiml  township  full  of  nooks  and  coves  and  reachinj;  points, 
so  ohstnictiuf^  pro<,'ress  in  this  direction  that  we  must  turn  its  extreme  northern 
head  hefore  we  can  shape  our  course  for  Castine,  where  we  purpose  next 
to  put  in. 


'  Kiickpiirt's  uiupiii  iif  liiuf  iiiiiiiiuiicil  in  IHS'.i  to  ;5;'7.0(»o  oasks. 

-  ( 'aiiidcn  takes  its  naiiic  fi'oiit  Loiil  ('aiiidfii.  smiif  time  Lmil  Ilii;ii  ('iiaiicclli)r  of  I'li^iiaiid. 
wlioiii  .hiiiiiis  sii  iiiiicii  cxtiiis.  It  iii'caiiu'  tiic  Aiiit  ri( an  <iut|iiist  wiiilc  ('a>;inf  rcinaiiitii  in 
Itiitisii  lianilH. 

•'  Mr^runticonk  (1  l.'iT  feet)  is  iiinlust.  Hattif  (i:!-.!.">  fe«-t)  comes  next.  Maid.  na;r«ed,  and 
I'leasant  du  not  exceed  lO(H)  teet. 

*  Isiesliiifiiu^li  really  inciiulcH  not  only  I^on^  Island,  wiiirli  is  eleven  miles  lon^  and  divides 
the  I'eiKilisciit  iiitu  Ivvu  ciiannels.  lint  also  the  rlustcr  |ii'ol<>n;;in;:  it  to  the  suuth  as  far  as  a 
pnint  due  east  fiiiin  |{<i(k|ii>rt  ilarlior.  ( »f  this  clnsti  r,  Seven-lliindred-Aci-e.  Waiien's.  and 
Joh*M  form  with  the  main  island  (iilkcy's  ilarbur,  which  is  sha|Hil  like  a  lulister's  claw.  'Hie 
harlmr  lit;ht  stands  at  the  nurthwesl  jioint  of  the  west  entrance,  and  can  lie  seen  from  Cam- 
den. l4aissell's,  .Saddle,  .Mark,  and  iii<liinsiin's  islands  extend  fnun  iKirth  to  sniuh  in  the 
oriler  named,  hi  view  (if  its  tuiiuuniphy  the  name  is  sinirnlarly  approiiriat*-.  .Midway,  the 
island  narmws  to  a  few  rods,  so  funnin;;  several  little  harbors  east  and  west.  This  ^nmjt 
iiehmved  ti>  tin-  Mnsconi,nis-\Valdii-Knnx  arrant,  frmn  which  its  land  titles  are  derived.  Krom 
Unckland  tn  Castine  the  eastern  ]iassa'j:e  is  nearest,  leaving;  Ktiliinsnn's  Kock  on  the  ]i(irt 
hand.  I.oii^f  Island,  on  which  there  were  a  few  farms,  is  now  a  jrrowinj;  summer  resort. 
Turtle  llfud  i»  its  unrthern  pi'iimiiiitory. 


'1, 


ii 


CIIAlTKi;    XX. 


HISTOKIC    CASTIXK. 


I 


"Arc  tliorc  any  tidiiij^s  t'ruin  over  tsca  •' 
All,  why  ha8  that  wild  boy  gone  from  iii*- ?  " — Lunufelluw. 


A  CERTAIN  U'iirnnl  jurist,  on  IxMn^  asked 
wliy  ht'  chose  Ciistiiie  to  begin  tl»e  |)nif- 


I<OOn\VAV,  CA9TIWB. 


1> 

ticc  of  law  in,  nuule  this  naive  reply:  "Why,  I 
found  that  I  had  to  break  into  the  worhl  some- 
where, so  I  thought,  on  the  whole,  I  would  stdeet 
the  weakest  spot." 

Castine'  is  tlu'  first  of  our  seacoast  towns  to 
greet  us  with  a  genuine  French  nanu',  which  we 
find  to  be  the  key  to  the  roniautic  story  of  an 
eventfid  career. 

It  is  the  first  to  draw  us  quite  away  from  tlie 
sober.  even-]iace(l  life  of  the  older  Knglish  s«'ttle- 
ments  into  another  life,  end)odying  som»^  elements 
of  the  picturescpie,  even  its  every -<lay  asjiects.  Upoii  this  our  fan(;y  builds  its 
castles.  It  is  a.s  nothing  that  the  Castine  Wi'  know  shows  scarcely  a  trace  of 
Castin,  the  founder.  With  the  lielj)  of  history,  legend,  and  poetry  our  imagi- 
natit)n  supi)lies  all  deficiencies.  Is  it  the  deference  that  republican  simplicity 
pays  to  the  trappings  of  monarchy  gone  to  irrenifdiable  rust  and  decay? 

Castine  is  a  peninsula  formed  as  mucli  like  Portland  a.s  one  almond  is  like 
another.  Thire  is  the  same  long,  high-rounded  back  of  ridge,  sloping  steeply 
down  to  the  water  at  the  sides,  yet  blunted  at  the  ends  by  jireciiiitous  head- 
lands. The  village  has  climbed  tlie  sunny  s  tuthern  slope,  as  far  a.s  the  edge  of 
the  broad  plateau  at  tlm  top.  where  one  enters  the  fields,  the  woods,  and  the 
pastures;  in  a  wokI,  the  country  itself.  At  this  elevated  point  the  State 
Normal  School  iniilding  overlooks  the  whole  village,  so  becoming  to  Castine 
what  its  gilded  dome  is  to  Hoston,  or,  as  one  might  say,  the  hopeful  sign  of  a 
higher  education. 

271 


W.\ 


nil.  I'Im;-ii{KK  mAsr. 


I? 


III!; 


I 


It.H  ti)|io^ra|ihi<'ii1  tVatnri's  arr  mm-Ii  as  tn  iiiak*-  tliis  |M>iiinsuIa  a  natural 
Htnnij,'li<il(l,  easily  ••uuvfrtililf  into  a  iimsl  ilrtcnsililt'  |Misitinii. — a  lad  t<»  wliiili 
('astiuf's  cai'lv  iiii|i(iitamf  was  iiii<loiilitiM||y  owin;,'. 

Clusc  liy  the  sll^|•^•-.•^ill•■.  as  <>iir  s;iils  iiji  lliis  licaiit  il'nl  liailior,  is  llic  ^Tccn 
Itaiik  wliirli  trailitioii  iii:ik*-s  tin-  sit<- nf  aiii-i*iit  l-'mt  l')-iita^'iH't.'- sniuft  iiix-  tltf 
liold  of  Mt'ssii'f  |>'.\uliiay  Cliariiisay,  ami  iilti-r  liim,  nf  the  liantii  Saiiit-Castiii. 
Its  true  liistorv  lM'<riiis  with  tin-  |>i'<iiii|t|  r<-<)riu|i:it iuii  i>\'  Acailia,  wIk-ii  Canlinal 
Ikirliflifii  put  his  |inw<Ttul  liaml  to  the  task  of  awakniiii^'  rulmiial  l''i'aii('tt  trotii 
its  Imii;  slM|inr. 

As  the  fxt  n-iiH'  (Hit  post,  of  A<-ailia.  rnita^oi't  was  to  he  sustaim-ii  at  all 
ha/anis,  ami  Nfw  Kii^'laml  iK-m-i-lorth  loumi  an  <-m-iiiy  at  h*T  tloors,  (IftrniiitiiMl 
to  resist  lu-r  every  attempt  to  ie«.'aiii   possession  of   the    ti'iritory  liet  ween  the 


'''^•««.i 


'^^-•'^.if^^'i.mS^'-^  "1 


'v..  ■* 


"***.'/.. , 


^^.^ 


MM.    ol     itil:  I     l-I.N  I  \<.<il-.T. 


I'euoliHCot  ami  Saint  Croix:  tor  the  kin<^*s  lieutenant,  in  his  doulile  eapaeity  of 
military  eomman<tant  and  mono|M)liNt  of  the  Indian  trade,  luuld  lie  relied  on 
to  defend  his  personal  ri^^hts  evi-n  more  vi^'orously  than  the  naliomd  honur. 
Su«di  was  l''reneli  eohmial  poliey — feudalism  transplanted. 

h'Aulnay  lieLjan  hy  driviie^^out  the  thritty  ril^Mims.  who  threatened  his 
monopoly.  iSut  he  had  a  more  formidalile  rival  in  La  'I'our.'ol  Saint  fiohn,  who 
held  command  lieyondthe  Saint  Croix.  Strippeil  <d'  their  t  illes,  they  were  really 
rival  traders,  masipieradin^' as  soldiers,  who  showed  nundi  more  jealousy  of  eaeh 
other  than  of  the  l']n;..,dish  ;  and  a>  neither  paid  any  respeet  to  the  linuts 
marked  out  lor  him  hy  his  eommission,  a  very  pretty  ipiarrel  soon  fell  out 
between  them. 

Kn(;ross<'d  hy  their  |H'rsona1  hatreds,  eaeh  applied  to  the  detested  ]'ai<.;lish 
f(u-  a  hidpinj;  hand  against  the  other.  'I'he  erafty  I'uritans,  after  lirst  searehini,' 
the  Seriptures  to  see  if  they  eouhl  iind  warrant  for  it,  ileeided  t(»  assist  l,;i 
'r«»ur,  inasnnieh  as  |)',\n'nay  was  ity  .all  odd.'-  the  m<»re  danj^erous  iiei^hhor  of 
the  two;  and  seeing,',  furt hersisore,  a  promise  of  profit  to  themselves  in  allowing' 
these  adversaries  to  eripjtle  eatdi   otiu-r   to  the   top  <d'  their   Itent.     So   when 


Ill 


I    .1 

I 


I; 
!! 

!i 

k 

lllsrniMC   (AS  TIM;. 


275 


h'Aiiliiiiy  l)liir|<ii<l<Ml  La  Tour  at  Saint.  Jolm,  tin-  I'liritans  liflpfil  l^a  Tour  tn 
ili-ivi-  liiiii  liat'k  to  iN-iita^'oi't.  Il<-  was  tollowril  tlicif  ami  attarki-i|  in  lii.s  turn, 
Init  suiTfcdrd  ill  licatin^'  oil'  his  assailants  without,  niiii-h  troiiMf.  For  this 
asHistancf  ha 'I'oiir  |iniiiiisc(l  tli*-  I'lirilans  ircfijoin  to  traiii-  in  his  ti-rritory. 

J)'Aiihiay  was  atlack<'il  a  scroml  linn-  with  no  lictt.iT  siumm'ss.  iJidinj,'  liis 
tiiiii'.  In-  aj,'aiii  sallifil  out  ajjainst.  La  'I'oiir's  iort.  wln-n  tin-  iiiasttM-  was  away 
with  |iart  of  his  iin-ii ;   liiit,  in  Mailaiiii*  l^a  Tour  th<!  assailant  i'oiintl  a  chAtclainc 


TIIK    I'lNK-rUKK    (OAM. 


A*':iiii:i  liiiviti^  thus  jtiiMSfil  to  IId-  rontrnl  nf°  tin-  Kii^^lisli,  its  hcvituI  |io.sts 
wiTi*  )^'i':iiit('il  to  ilini'ii-iit.  |ii'o|ii'ictor.s,  lir.st  liy  < 'i-oiiiwfll,  ami  alti-rwaiilH  hy 
<!liai'l)-s  II..  I'l-iitai^oct  railing' to  till*  sliait-  of  tliat  Sir  'riioiiias 'I'liniilr  who  ho 
rh'vnly  t urinal  away  iIh-  .M<iry  Mfiiiairh's  wiatli  lioiii  Nrw  Kiii^laml  hy  Irllin^r 
him  that  the  tli'vici*  Ht!iiii|MM|  on  ilii*  |tiii«*-t n-)*  shilling;  was  put.  tlifn*  in  foui- 
miiiiui.itioii  of  Itoscohfl.  Ihit  iimhT  th«-  iKaty  o|  Itn-ila,  Acadia  w:i.s  lossi-il 
Mill)  the  sralfs  a.s  ii  niaki-wi-i^'ht.,  so  iH-roniiiiK  l''r*'m'ii  a^aiu. 

It  was  not.  until  Hott  thai,  the  l-'n-nch  fla^,'  wa.s  a^'ain  unfurhMl  «»v<'r  I'l-nta- 
;.,'oit.  'I'lu-n-  is  an  rjahoratf  <h'srri|ilion  ol  Ihi-loit  at  Ihi.s  timr,  .show  in;.,' t  hat. 
it  hail  lifcn  nnn-h  •■nlai'^i-il  ami  st  i-fnKtli<-n<M|.  In  MIT  I  t  he  |(lacc  was  a^ain  tak<-n 
hy  hufciin<**Ts  Inim  San  honiin^o,  who  larrinl  oH  Chamlily,  th<-  connnanih-i', 
to  Itoston,  wIdt*'  In*  was  hi-hl  to  ransom. 

It  is  at  this  tinif  that  IIh-  man  vvIiom-  nanii-  is  so  intiniati-jy  assiM-iiitiMl  with 
dastin*'  liist,  ronn-s  upon  thi-  sci-ni'. 

i'laron  Saint-Cast  in  liail  comi-  out,  to  ('anada  with  his  rt';;imi-nt  in  ICtli.V 
Till-  history  ol  this  rc^inn-nt  is  not  without  inttiisi  tn  .\iut'ii<ans.  he  'I'lary, 
till'  l<in;;'s  vii-iToy.  had  inslanlly  sit  it  to  wmk  Imiiilinv'  thn-i-  lorts  on  I  In* 
liiih<li)-ii  Kivt'i'.  as  a  hiilwark  a^'.iiiist  tin-  li'oi|iiois.  ('aptain  Son-I,  of  this 
if;,Mmiiit.  was  char^fil  with  tin-  lii^t.  at.  lin-  nioiilh  ol  tin-  rivi-r;  Captain 
Chaiiiiil\.  with  that  at  tlu'  hmt  ol  tin-  ra|iiils:  wiiih'  t'oiom-I  Saiirri-s  took 
upon  himsi'jl  tin-  fiiclion  ol  Ihi-  Ihinl.  still  hi;{h*'i'  U|>.  In  this  wa\  tin'  iiaim-s 
ol  Soi'fl  ami    t'hamltjv   liiTaim-  alli.siii  tu  I  in-  map  ol  Canada. 

Castin's  n'^Mini-nt  havini.' Imm-ii  lii^iiandi'd.  hot li  otiin-rs  and  iiu'n  wen*  ;^MV)-n 
lilt)  ral  •,'i-ants  ril  land  as  an  imluri'miMil  to  stay  in  tin-  inlony,  so  as  t,o  stifu^'t  lirii 
it  hy  tin-  inlusion  ol  a  litth-  iron  into  its  hjood.  as  it  wi-ri*.  —  a  vi-ry  jiidii-ioiis 
move,  as  it  piovi'd.  In-causr  maii\  ol  t In- olliicrs  wi-re  ol  i^ood  ramil\,and  thr 
iiu'ii  scasom-i|  soldii-i's.  who  roiild  In'  rrfknmd  on  to  diliiid  their  own  homes 
all  the  more  /ealoiisly.  Castiii  hiniseli  .si'i'm>  to  havi-  prelerred  easting  his  lot 
amiin'.^'the  Indians,  which  ^dves  us.  perhaps,  the  lii-st  index  to  his  t  rue  eharaeter. 
He  was  yi't  a  mere  lad  when  he  is  lound  li^ditin^'  at  renla;4:oet.  a,\'ainst  the 
hiieeaiieers,  as  has  been  just,  mentioned,  and  Irom  thai  time  oiiw.ird  his  exploits 
<'aused  him  to  he  known  and  leared  I  hioii'.^hout  New  Kn;^dand  as  no  other 
h't'enehmall    had   Iteeii   lielot'e  hilll. 

Castin  was  eipially  ready  to  li^'ht  or  trade,  as  the  oeeasion  nii'„dit.  eall  Tor. 
Ife  had  the  twin  passions  ol  a  tiiie  Itearnais,  -love  lor  war  and  love  ol  money. 
At  one  time  he  is  a  hoon  eompanioii:  at  another  he  exhihits  all  the  leroeity  ol' 
11  savage.  He  took  an  Indian  princess  lor  a  wile,  adopted  the  manners  ol  her 
nation,  shared  in  its  councils,  monopoli/.cd  its  trade,  ami  made  hinisell  so  lar 
master  of  its  acts  as  to  he  ahle  to  dirtale  pea<-<'  or  war  wln-ii  he  would. 

In  his  hands,  however,  I'cnta^^oet  decjini'd  to  a  nn-re  trailinii-post,  paitl\ 
through  the  parsimony,  and  partly  through  the  iD-^dcct.  of  those  in  autlioiit\. 
As  Hiicli,  it  invited  atl.ick.  Sometimes  Castiii  was  forced  to  take  refuse  anions 
Ills  wild  I'eiioli.seots  until  the  storm  had  passed  over.  In  one  of  these  hurrieil 
tli;,'hts,  soiiH'  fuKitive  is  supposed  to  have  lost  or  concealed  a  larj^'c  sum  in  silver 


ho 

IH'S 
III 

ItT. 
Il- 

nils 
11   T 

MS  . 

-r 


fJUtlvv  ?|ftl(w»  >Uv\AC      UmUi*       1'.\c 


.1! 


Hi 


I  Ml  viti  vN  (III  i:<  II.  cvHiiNi: 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


V. 


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A 


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1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


l^|28 

■2.5 

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III  1.8 

U    IIIIII.6 


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fi 


is 


It 


IIISTOKIC   CASTIXE. 


L'7l> 


PICKED    VV    AT    CASTINK. 


coin,  which  was  found,  so  late  as  the  year  1840,  on  the  ohl  trail  leading  off  from 
the  peninsula. 

In  this  vagabond  life,  pictares(iue,  it  is  true,  Longfellow  found  an  attractive 
theme  for  his  poetic  fancy,  to  which  he  has  given  much  freedom,  since  by  all 
accounts  both  rank  and  manhood  were  degraded  in  Castiu  for  the  sake  of  lucre. 
Brave  he  was,  yet  in  the  double  personality  of  a 
gentleman  turned  savage,  and  of  a  savage  turned 
gentleman,  —  for  Castin  finally  Avent  back  to  France 
with  a  fortune  "in  good,  dry  gold," — the  distinc- 
tion becomes  confusing. 

Castm's  half-breed  son  succeeded  to  his  father 
at  Pentagoet,  and  followed  in  his  footstejjs.  He 
was  a  true  chip,  inheriting  all  his  father's  hatred 
for  those  "  perfidious  English,"  to  whom  he  sold 
brandy  one  day,  or  fought  with  the  next.  But  we 
lack  space  to  chronicle  all  that  befell  in  this  remote 
corner  of  New  England  up  to  the  time  when  it 
finally  passed  out  of  French  control. 

Castine  is  certainly  a  very  attractive  village.  It  is  also  a  very  quiet  one, 
except  when  roused  to  abnormal  activity  by  the  arriA'al  of  a  steamboat,  when 
about  all  the  flrating  population  swarms  down  to  the  landing.  The  stranger 
who  is  uneasy  ;  t  seeing  the  streets  full  of  people  all  hurrying  in  one  direction, 
when  but  a  moment  before  they  were  deserted,  is  quieted,  however,  at  finding 
that  the  village  is  not  on  fire.  Having  gratified  its  curiosity  for  the  hundredth 
time,  perhaps,  the  crowd  quietly  disperses.  This  incident  lets  us  deeper  into 
the  practical  isolation  of  the  place,  perhaps,  than  anything  else  could. 

In  point  of  fact,   one  very  soon  realizes  that  the  commercial   prosperity 

of  Castine  is  at  its  lowest  ebb. 
]\riddle-aged  people,  proud  of 
their  traditions,  who  remember 
when  it  was  different,  kx)k  upon 
the  shifting  throng  of  giddy 
sight-seers  with  something  (jf 
the  same  feeling  that  their 
fathers  experienced  when  the 
.  regulars  marched  up  the  hill 
with  fixed  bayonets. 

This  antipathy  to  new-fangled 
notions   has  so   far  left  its  im- 
press on  the  outward  aspect  of  things  that  Castine  seems  like  a  chapter  taken 
out  of  an  old  book. 

It  is  like  meeting  again  the  friend  of  our  youth,  to  listen  to  the  ringing  of 
the  church  bells  at  morning,  noon,  and  night.  Here  the  observance  might  well 
recall  that  ancient  chapel  by  the  sea, — its  pious  call  to  prayers,  its  solemn  chants 


TIIK    OLD 


TIB. 


iilEs 


I  pit 


I 


280 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


m 


!) 


I 


i'fi  i 


il 


I 


ii 


and  stately  processions,  — as  something  grown  stronger  and  more  sonorous  with 

the  hipse  of  years.     How  lovingly  the  sweet  tones  of  the  curfew  seem  lingering 

on  the  evening  air  ! 

"  Those  evening  bells,  those  evening  bells  ! " 

Hut  no;  it  is  the  call  of  Time  rather  than  Eternity.  Yet  it  agreeably  breaks 
the  stillness,  or  divides  it  rather  into  equal  portions. 

Wlien  one  has  g^ne  through  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  village,  it  bccujnu's 
apparent  that  Castine's  greatest  charm  lies  in  its  eventful  past.  To  that  we 
once  more  turn  as  to  an  inexhaustible  resource. 

For  those  who  never  read  except  when  they  run,  few  places  furnish  better 
object-lessons  in  history.     From  the  story  of  border  warfare,  as  told  by  those 


MAIN    STHKKT,    CASTINE. 

fading  mounds  by  the  shore,  we  ])ass  on,  and  up,  to  a  more  momentous  period, 
as  portrayed  in  the  still  solid  rami)arts  crowning  the  heights.  Here  men  of  the 
same  race  have  crossed  swords  in  deadly  strife. 

The  ]\[ain  Street  takes  one  straight  up  to  the  site  of  Fort  George;  for  it  was 
built  when  George  HI.  was  king,  and  christened  with  many  bumpers  when  the 
flag  was  run  u})  and  saluted  for  the  first  time.  Landor's  incisive  abridgment 
of  Thackeray's  '•  Four  Georges  "  came  into  my  mind  quite  spontaneously,  as  I 

was  taking  my  first  Avalk  around  the  ramparts:  — 

« 

"  George  the  First  was  reckoned  vile; 

Viler  (ieorge  the  Second  ; 
And  what  mortal  ever  heard 

Any  good  of  George  the  Third? 
When  from  earth  the  Fourth  ascended, 

God  be  praised,  the  Georges  ended!  " 

All  the  ishuuls  and  shores  forming  the  harbor  lie  at  one's  feet.  Here  are 
Holbrook's  and  Nautilus  islands,  aiid  yonder  are  Brooksville  and  Cape  Rosier.* 


m 


1 


HISTOHIC  CASTINE. 


281 


Far  away  in  the  east  rise  the  dim  humps  of  Mount  Desert  and  the  solitary  cone 
of  Bhie  Hill  —  striking  landmarks,  all. 

"Sweet  odors  and  bright  colors  swiftly  pass  — 
Swiftly  as  breath  upon  a  looking-glass." 

Southward,  lies  the  flat  expanse  of  Penobscot  Bay,  smoking  with  the  morn- 
ing mists,  almost  tropical  in  its  dull  and  glassy  brightness,  with  Long  Island 
reposing  in  its  midst.  The  Camden  Hills  are  over  beyond.  "  Ah,  this  is  Ijcaii- 
tiful!"you  say  to  yourself;  and  then  you  look  down  at  the  embattled  walls 
under  your  feet,  and  mentally  add  "  This  was  worth  lighting  for ! " 

Fort  George  seems  good  for  another  century,  at  least.  It  is  a  spacious  rec- 
tangular earthwork,  from  which  everything  but  the  bare  walls  has  disai)peaivd. 
Its  present  owner,  ]\Ir.  George  Witherle,  has,  I  am  ]ileased  to  note,  the  historic 
instinct  for  preserving  these  relics  of  the  past,  which  no  visitor  to  Castiue 


I 


ml,'. 


■Kiiv 


FERRY,    BAGADUCE    RIVER. 


are 


should  neglect  seeing.  When  I  saw  it  last,  a  game  of  tennis  was  in  progress, 
and  balls  Avere  being  tossed  about  of  quite  a  different  kind  from  those  which 
had  passed  between  besiegers  and  besieged  when  jdaying  the  game  of  war. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  however,  th(>  scene  changed  to  one  of  pathetics 
interest.  The  grass-grown  parade  was  again  filled  with  soldiers,  —  veterans  of 
the  Civil  War,  met  here  to  fight  their  battles  over  again.  What  a  grizzled,  bat- 
tered, hard-featured  band  they  were,  to  be  sure  I  Home  hobbled  ])aini'ully  along 
on  crutches,  or  limped  awkwardly  in  the  rear.  There  was  nothing  left  of  that 
old  elastic  swing  and  jaunty  air  with  which  they  first  marched  oft'  to  the  war. 
They  tramped  heavily  and  even  gloomily  up  the  hill,  passing  a  word  or  a  jest 
with  the  bystanders,  who  looked  on  with  something  of  awe  in  their  faces,  yet 
without  showing  the  admiration  that  a  militia  company  in  full  rig  would  have 
called  forth.     One  poor  fellow  said  apologetically,  in  reply  to  something  i"' 


PfT^==^ 


2S2 


TIIK    PINK-TKEK   COAST. 


]    '< 


'  il 


I     I'll 
3   :>' 


k    %' 


'I 


overheard  about  his  lagging  in  the  rear,  "  Young  man,  I  giiess  you  would  lag, 
too,  if  you  had  seven  buc^kshot  in  you."  The  scoffer  turned  away  as  red  as  tire. 
These  men's  eyes  were  dim,  their  shoulders  IxMit,  their  joints  stiifened  with 
advancing  age,  old  wounds,  or  lurking  diseases  ;  but  in  them  the  grand  spirit  of 
brotlu'rhood  in  arms  was  a  sacred  tire  to  be  k(^j)t  alive  to  the  last  survivor. 
( hice  more  the  roll  was  called.  How  numy  failed  to  answer  to  their  names ! 
The  dead  far  outninnbered  the  living.  In  silence  they  stood  around  the  tattered 
tlag  they  had  fought  for.  Then  the  loud  drums  rattled  out  again  as  of  old. 
The  tifes  struck  up  ''Dixie,"  each  veteran  straightened  himself  up  like  an  old 

war-horse  at  the  trumpet's  sound,  and  Avith  inde- 
scribably martial  port  the  column  marched  down 
the  hill,  —  yes,  down  the  hill. 

The  war  for  independence  had  been  on  four 
years  before  Castine  again  assumed  imjtortance 
in  a  military  sense.  At  this  time  the  I>i'itish 
ministry  determined  co  isolate  the  settlenumts 
lying  east  of  the  Penobscot  from  those  at  the  west. 
The  war-worn  peninsula  was  therefore  ])romptly 
seized  ui)on.  In  June,  1779,  a  force  sent  from 
Halifax   under  General  MacLean   broke   ground 

on  these   heitihts. 


Massachusett  s 
hurriedly  got  to- 
gether a  homespun 
army,  formidable 
only  in  name,  to 
expel  the  invaders. 
Kovices  in  war  as 
the  soldiers  were, 
their  officers  were 
to  1  e  a  d  t  h  e  m. 
numerous  but  in- 
army.  In  a  word, 
acrai)e(l  together 
executing  a  l)ril- 
from  which  its 
reap     both    glory 


KINCH'S    MOUNTAIN. 


!i 


scarce  better  fitted 

There  was  a  fleet, 

efficient,     like    the 

it  was  a  force  hastily 

for  tlie   purjiose  of 

liant  coup  de  main, 

authors  expected  to 

and  profit.      Always  brave,  when  mere  bravery  sufficed,  our  soldiers  gallantly 

scaled  the  steep  cliffs  of  the  southern  headland  under  a  galling  fire.     Any  one 

who  will  take  the  trouble  to  visit  the  spot  must  appreciate  the  daring  of  the  act. 

<  )ne  bold  effort  would  undoubtedly  have  won  the  day  ;  but  after  clearing  their 

way  to  the  fort,  which  was  not  then  half  completed  or  half  armed,  the  besiegers 

wasted  three  precious  weeks  in  looking  at  their  adversaries  from  a  distance, 

because  Saltonstall,  the  naval  comuuinder,  dared  not  push  his  squadron  into  the 


IIISTOKir    CASTINK. 


28.3 


harbor  against  the  enemy's  shi})s  and  batteries.  This  delay  was  necessarily 
fatal.  On  one  of  those  foggy  mornings  so  prevalent  in  this  bay  the  Avatch- 
boats  caught  sight  of  seven  heavy  ships  bearing  down  upon  them  under  a  press 
of  sail.  It  was  Sir  George  Collier's  scpiadron  coming  to  raise  the  siege.  With 
the  g"  "^-f'st  ex(>rtions  our  land  forces  wen?  safely  drawn  oft'  the  peninsula;  but 
the  fleet  was  completely  destroyed,  most  of  the  ships  being  driven  Jishore  and 


It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  more  disastrous 


burnt  to  the  water's  edge, 
rout.  From  Castine  to 
Bangor  the  shores  were 
literally  strewed  with 
wrecks,  while  the  woods 
swarmed  with  fugitives. 
John  Moore,  then  a 
young  subaltern  in  the 
82(1  Foot,  began  here  that 
renuirkable  career  which 
was  so  gloriously  termi- 
nated in  the  trenches 
of  Corunna  in  1S09, 
and  is  commenu)rated 
through  all  time  in 
\N'olfe"s  tine  ode,  — 

"\(it  a  dnun  was  hoard,  not 
a  fuiiLTal  note." 


The  invaders  kept 
undisputed  possession 
until  after  the  conclu- 
sion of  peace,  though  the 
memory  of  the  defeat 
they  had  inflicted  on  our 
untrained  soldiers  gave 
rise  to  occasional  pro- 
jects   for    dislodging 

them.  But  the  first  effort  had  (j^uite  robbed  the  enterprise  of  its  charms. 
Eochambeau  and  La  Peyrouse  offered  to  undertake  it,  and  would  have  done  so 
if  more  important  services  had  not  called  them  to  another  field.  That  would 
have  been  a  curious  instance  of  history  repeating  itself,  if  the  French  flag 
had  been  again  planted  on  the  heights  of  Pentagoet,  through  the  interven- 
tion of  those  very  colonists  who  had  been  the  most  inveterate  in  their  efforts  to 
pull  it  down. 

From  this  vantage-ground  the  British  began  their  wanton  depredations  on 
the  neighboring  coasts  and  harbors,  —  a  warfare  exclusively  aimed  at  the  destruc- 
tion of  property. 


f~ 


L'.Sl 


TiiH  i'iNi;-ri{i;i':  coast. 


C.istiiie  remainod  in  our  hiuids  until  1H14,  when  it  was  abandoned  without  a 
tight  to  another  strong  invading  force,  wlio  again  nia(h'  it  the  eentre  for  i)lun- 
(U'ring  and  burning  the  eoast  towns  east  and  west,  levying  forced  (jontributions, 
setting  tire  to  half-built  vessels,  —  all  with  the  view  of  crushing  out  not  only  the 
aliility  for  resistance,  but  the  spirit  also.  At  this  tinu;  Uelfast  was  visited, 
Hampden  piHaged,  and  Uangor  taken,     in  a  very  short  time   Kastern  ]\laine 


J 


vy 


%tX- 


np 


IfKMC    or    Tin;    OCCl   I'ATION. 


was  as  good  as  subjugated.  At  liostou  these 
.lets  were  believed  to  foreshadow  a  formidable 
invasion  of  all  Xew  England.  After  a  stay  of 
eight  months  the  Jb'itish  garrison  took  its 
final  leave  of  Castine  in  A]»ril,  ISlo,  leaving 
A  \'        ^.         A  behind  such  memories  of  balls  and  routs,  of 

levees  and  amateur  theatricals,  as  sufficed  for 
the  tea-table  gossip  of  a  whole  generation. 

In  view  of  all  these  ups  and  downs,  the 
unwritten  history  of  Castine  would,  no  doubt, 
prove  far  more  interesting  than  the  dry  recital 
of  what  has  been  so  many  times  repeated.  (  Mic 
would  like  an  account  of  sonu;  of  the  soulaf/c- 
iiients  of  garrison  life,  —  the  flirtatious,  the 
])romenades,  the  boating-])arties.  the  tlinner- 
parties  ;  in  short,  to  know  whether  those  j)erfidi(ms  IJritons  carried  off  with 
them  the  suscej)til)le  hearts  of  the  Castine  maidens. 

The  most  agreeable  stroll  out  of  the  village  that  T  know  of  begins  at  the 
old  fort,  and  follows  the  shore  round  to  the  lighthouse  at  Dice's  Head,  i)ast  the 
summer  colony  that  has  s])rung  uj)  in  the  neighborhood,  through  the  woodland 
I)aths  skirting  the  bi'ow  of  the  high  cliffs  of  that  shore,  — those  enduring  nionii- 
nuMits  to  unavailing  valor."'  —  on  i)ast  Blockhouse  Point,  where  the  landing 
was  made,  and  out  again  into  the  open  jilain  that  is  everywhere  fui'rowed  with 
vestiges  of  the  siege  of  a  hundred  years  ago.  Some  are  the  remains  of  trenches, 
and  sonu'  nunvly  serve  to  show  the  positi(ms  (jf  old  camps  pitcdied  outsidi'  the 
fortress. 

]iy  descending  the  hill  a  little,  from  the  northwest  angle  of  the  fort,  a  well- 
ju-eserved  battery  shows  how  strongly  the  laud  approach  was  guarded.  Still 
lower  down  a  deep  moat  was  cut  across  the  istlnnus,  thus  wholly  severing  it 
from  the  mainland,  the  passage  to  and  fro  being  made  over  a  bridge.  Sti'ict 
guard  was  kept  here.  Yet  it  "was  by  this  dangerous  route  that  Wadsworth 
made  his  escape  through  the  sentinels  to  tlu^  <ji)posite  shores  ;  so  that  his  name 
has  become  attached  to  the  cove  opening  into  the  bay,  at  the  left  here. 

Although  Castine  lies  somewhat  off  the  direct  route  from  llftckland  to  ]\[ount 
Desert,  the  Penobscot  ]iay  steamers  afford  fretpuMit  eomnmnication  with  that 
i.sland.  It  would  be  difficult  to  trace  out  a  more  beautiful  excursion  than  is 
thus  ])laced  at  the  visitor's  disposal,  or  one  from  which  he  could  tlerive  eqiuil 
pleasure  for  so  small  an  outlay. 


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inSTOUK"    CASriXK. 


1'.S7 


After  passing  out  of  tlic  liarbor,  tlie  route  skirts  the  curiously  stratilied  rocks 
of  Cape  Hosier,  another  locality  which  has  been  bought  up  by  improving  specu- 
lat<5rs.  It  then  turns  shar])ly  away  to  the  east  to  enter  the  far-famed  Kggcniog- 
gin  Reach,  or  Naskeag.  as  tlie  old  charts  name  it,  a  narrow  strip  of  water  sej»a- 
rating  the  shores  of  Unxiksvillc,  Sedgwick,  and  Mrooklin  from  those  of  Little 
Deer  and  (xreat  Deer  Isle."  For  a  doztui  miles,  or  from  the  entrancte  at  Vump- 
kin  Island  out  again  at  the  Devil's  Head,  no  sail  could  be  more  charmingly 
diversiiied,  more  full  of  scenic  surprises,  or  more  lice  from  actual  or  hidden 
dangers.  One  cannot  look  in  any  direction  without  seeing  some  new  picture. 
Then  the  water  is  evtuywhere  deep  and  unobstructed  by  sunken  ledges,  and  so 
still  that  but  for  the  occasional  apj)earance  of  a  landing  or  a  iislierman's  skiff, 
one  might  easily  fancy  himself  sailing  on  some  calm  stream  of  an  undiscovered 
country.  At  Indian  Cove,  on  Little  Deer  Isle,  there  is  a  sprinkling  of  cottages, 
built  by  the  light-keei)er  for  the  atH'onunodation  of  summer  visitors  of  moderate 
means,  or  who  do  not  care  a  penny  for  fashion  or  show.  Life  her<>  is  essentially 
amphibious.  There's  many  an  islet  wliere  one  thinks  he  would  like  to  make  a 
C'rusoe  of  hims(df  for  one  summer  at  least.  I'ure  air  and  vigorous  exercise 
(piickly  convert  i)ale  cheeks  and  flabby  muscles  into  bronze  and  brawn.  This  is 
surely  the  common-sense  side  to  a  summer  vacation.  "  What  is  the  country 
but  a  means  of  returning  to  our  earliest  youth,  of  finding  again  that  faculty  of 
hapj)iness,  that  state  of  deep  attention,  that  indifference  to  everything  but 
])leasure  and  the  present  sensation,  that  facile  joy  which  is  a  brimming  sjiring 
ready  to  overflow  at  the  least  impulse  ?  " 

After  looking  into  Sedgwick,  a  really  picturesque  villag<^  at  the  head  of  a 
pretty  harbor,  the  boat  glides  swiftly  on  througli  the  Heach,  past  a  clump  of 
low-lying  islets,  clears  Xaskeag  Point  with  a  rush,  and  shoots  out  into  Dlue 
Hill  Bay,"  with  nothing  between  us  and  the  frowning  sununits  of  .Mount  Desert 
but  the  long  ocean  swell,  which  comes  rolling  steadily  in,  and  is  piled  up  on 
the  foaming  shores  about  us.  Our  boat  seems  courtesying  to  the  slumberous 
(dd  mountains,  as  she  ploughs  her  way  steadily  on  toward  that  haven  of  murine 
luxury,  —  the  far-famed  Desert  Isle, 


It 


'■      I'.ll 


1  Castine  was  known  to  the  Enirlish  as  IVuob.scot,  and  to  the  French  as  I'entasoet,  that 
being  their  reuilering  of  tlie  Indian  name.  Chanii)lain  lirst  gives  it  to  u.s  in  this  form.  I'pon 
the  division  of  tlie  old  county  of  Lincohi  into  the  two  counties  of  Hancock  and  Washington, 
in  1700,  I'enobscot  was  made  the  shire  town  of  Hancock,  and  Machias  of  Washington.  Ca.s- 
tine  was  set  off  from  the  old  township  of  Penobscot,  as  it  had  been  tirst  incorporated  in  1787, 
and  given  corporate  rights,  with  its  present  name,  in  179(3.  Previous  to  this  the  peninsula  of 
Castine  somehow  acijuired  the  local  name  of  Ragaduoe,  tliongh  no  very  satisfactory  reason  is 
found  for  it  beyond  what  is  ntated  by  "Williamson,  II.  'u2.  Castine  River  was  the  name 
formerly  given  to  the  water  extending  inland  into  Penobscot,  northwardly,  and  Moxus'  Kiver 
to  that  between  Brooksville  and  Sedgwick.  Dr.  G.  A.  Wheeler  has  written  the  history  of 
Castine. 

2  Fort  Pentagoet  is  ou  the  property  of  Mr,  George  H.  Webb,  situated  about  a  quarter  of 


•»ni 


L'SS 


TilK    I'lMl-TUKK   ('oASr. 


a  mi  Moiitli  of  tlic  rtti'iviiiboat  liimliiii,'.  Kxcavations  made  witli  tlic  vii'w  of  fstablisliiiiii  tlit 
liK'alily  ill  iiucstjun  iiavc  hnmiiht  In  iiulit  sunii'  fipiiiiilatii)ii  walls,  willi  ntlicr  ri'inaiiis  tiiai 
would  si'i'iii  to  coiitinii  tilt'  local  tiaditioii.  Imt  tin-  work  of  time  or  demolition,  or  itoth,  has 
ivudered  ideiititicalioii  dillieidt,  the  more  as  tiie  fort  had  "{oiie  to  decay  loii!,'  before  the  French 
liiially  aliaiidoiied  the  place.  Some  part  was  doiilitless  of  stone  and  some  of  wood.  I'nfortii- 
nately  for  the  success  of  later  iiuiuiry.  the  settlers  jjrobalily  heli)ed  themselves  to  such 
materials  as  they  wanted  ;  so  that  the  stones  ot  Fort  I'entandet  would  probably  have  to  be 
soiiuht  for  amouii  tlu-  foundation  walls  of  the  villajje. 

''  For  a  more  ample  account  of  La  Tour,  refer  to  Winthrop's  ••.Journal,"  llutchinson's 
"  Massicliuscits  Hay."  Murdock's  ••Nova  Scotia."  ••Sir  William  AlexaiuU'r"  (I'rince 
Society's  Series),  etc. 

••  It  is  not  known  to  the  author  just  how  this  promontory  ^nt  its  name.  It  is  sieiierally 
supposed  to  have  lieeii  uiven  in  honor  of  .lames  Hosier,  the  journalist  of  Weymouth's  voyaLTc. 

"  There  is  a  tradition  connected  with  Trask's  jjock.  runnin.i;  to  the  I'ffect  that  a  dnim- 
mer-boy  belomjiiiL;  io  the  storniiiii,^  ]iariy  t'lisconced  himself  lnhind  this  rock,  wiiere  he  kept 
n[)  his  inspiritini:  ratai>lan  while  his  comraiU'S  were  toilini;  the  steep  a.scent  under  a  sore 
and  heavy  tire.  Tlu're  is  a  small  portrait  of  Israel  Trask,  c  hero  of  this  exploit,  in  the 
rooms  of  the  Maine  Historical  Society  at  I'ortlaml. 

'■'  Deer  Isle,  lar.uest  of  the  reiiobscot  islands,  is  nearly  severed  at  the  middlt!.  leaving;  two 
lari;f  lobes,  of  irreuular  shape,  uneven  surface,  and  cove-dented  sides.  The  easternmost  side  is 
crushed  all  to  i)ieces.  its  debris  beinii  thi'  score  of  laruc  and  small  islands  which  at  one  time 
undoubtedly  formed  part  of  tlu'  main  Island  itself.  Tlu'  water  enteriii!;-  its  west  side  leails  to 
the  i)riiicipal  villaiic,  situated  a*  the  isthmus.  Decline  of  the  lisheries.  and  conse(iueut  loss  of 
population,  is  a  rule  to  which  Deer  Isle  oft'ers  no  exception.  Isle  au  Haul  rises  at  the  south. 
Moiiut  Desert  at  the  east,  the  Fox  Islands  west,  with  the  Cjiiudeii  .Mountains,  the  coniiiion 
scenic  property  of  all  this  ulorioiis  bay.  for  a  backi;roiind. 

Isle  Haute  (Iliiih  Isle),  as  Champlaiii  well  named  it.  is  considered  the  I'astern  limit  of 
I'eiioliscot  Hay.  It  was  attached  to  the  township  of  Deer  Isle  until  set  off  in  1,S74.  The 
pojiulation  is  small,  poor,  and  decreasinu.  This  anuatic  townshii)  also  comprises  all  the 
smaller  islands  lyinu  off  south  of  the  pas.satte  so  whimsically  named  Merchant's  How,  oerhaps 
for  .\ntbony  Merchant,  an  early  settler.  The  shori's  rise  up  sharjily  from  the  water,  ii.vo  the 
tip  oi  a  half-submeriivd  mountain.  Some  soil  has  collected  in  the  hollows,  the  uplaiul  being 
tit  only  tor  pastura,i;e.  The  inhabitants  eke  out  a  poor  livinj;'  by  raisiufj;  a  few  sheep,  tishinu;  a 
little,  anil  farmiui;  a  little,  and  by  gatherinj;  blueberries,  which  urow  plentifully  on  most  of 
these  islands.     The  island  catches  the  eye  from  all  outer  apin'oaches  to  this  bay. 

nine  Hill  Hay  reaches  up  tifteeii  miles  to  the  village  of  Hlue  Hill,  on  the  west  shore, 
receives  rniou  Kiver  still  hiiiher  up,  by  which  vessels  ascend  to  Ellsworth,  forms  part  of  the 
water  sei)aratiug  Mount  Desert  from  the  mainland,  here  called  Western  Hay,  and  like  all  the 
bays  of  Maine  is  strewed  with  islands  from  one  end  to  the  other.  North  of  Naskeag  I'oiiit 
are  tlu'  noted  marks,  the  Ship  and  Harge,  so  called  from  the  trees  once  growing  on  the  larger 
islet;  the  liarge  is  nothing  i)ut  a  dry  rock.  Southerly  of  Xaskeag,  in  tlie  mouth  of  the  bay. 
is  the  large  Swan's  Island,  or  Hurnt  Coat,  also  surrotuided  by  its  tributary  cluster  of  smaller 
islands,  thus  forming  a  "plantation,"  of  which  outer  Long  Island  is  perhaps  conspicuous 
above  all  the  Maine  islands  for  the  semi-civilized  character  of  its  lishermen.  It  is  said  that 
for  the  want  of  animals  they  harness  themselves  to  the  plough.  Next  to  Mount  Desert  Hock 
it  is  the  last  land  in  these  waters.  Swan's  Island  has  about  eleven  hundred  acres,  with  a 
good  harbor  at  its  westerly  side,  ilarshall's  lies  southwest ;  Pond.  Calf.  John's,  and  iilack  lie 
out  north,  toward  Naskeag. 


ill  the 


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BASS    HAKIiOK,    MOUNT    DESERT    ISLAND. 


:p 


CHAPTER   XXI. 


MOUXT    DESERT    ISLAXI). 


"  May  I  turn  oyster  and  drink  nothing  but  salt  water."  —  Maklowe's  Fnustus. 


Ill 


EVEN  so  late  as  the  year  1857  a  writer  plucked  up  the  courage  to  say  that 
he  thought  a  visit  to  Mount  Desert  might  prove  a  grateful  experience,  —  a 
remark  thrown  out  by  the  way,  to  note,  it  would  seem,  if  the  drift  of  popular 
prejudice  had  yet  set  in  a  truer  direction.  Yet.  as  recent  as  it  seems,  this  date 
does  not  accurately  hx  the  new  discovery  by  some  years.  The  old  stigma  was 
not.  yet  removed.  If  some  one  happened  to  let  fall  the  remark  that  Mount 
Desert  was  said  to  have  fine  scenery,  it  was  instantly  countered  with  ''  So  hns 
Labrador." 

There  is,  however,  a  class  of  discoverers  who  accept  no  man's  dictum, — wor- 
shippers of  nature,  devotees  of  art.  At  Blount  Desert,  as  at  many  another  spot 
that  might  be  mentioned,  our  landscape  painters  were  the  advanced  guard, 
whose  pictorial  bulletins  first  set  in  motion  the  grand  army  of  tourists,  ever 
insatiable  for  new  worlds  to  conquer.  Thomas  Doughty  is  said  to  have  been 
the  first  painter  of  note  to  reproduce  on  canvas  the  fine  scenery  of  Blount 
Desert,  he  having  sketched  here  before  1840 ;  and  Doughty  was  more  or  less 
closely  followed  by  Cole,  Fisher,  Church,  Gilford,  Bierstadt,  H.  Brown,  and 
others,  who  have  been  pioneers  of  American  landscape  art  in  the  truest  sense  of 
the  word.  If  that  group  of  men  could  not  make  Mount  Desert  famous,  nothing 
could. 

And  so  this  beautiful  island  of  the  sea  was  not  only  newly  discovered,  but 
redeemed  from  the  obloquy  that  a  flippant  paragraph  and  infelicitous  name  had 

$m. 


292 


'I'lIK    riNK-'IKKK   (OAST. 


I 


J 


SO  lonj;  Civst  about  it.  Visitors  dropped  in  by  twos  and  thi»'(!S,  by  scores,  by 
thousands.  Tlie  simple  island  folk  awok(i  to  tind  tluMasi^lves  enjj^uU'efl  by  a 
wave  of  plicMionienal  prosperity,  wliieli  has  carried  some  oi'  them  on  to  riches  as 
mdooked  for  as  a  capital  priz(!  in  the  Louisiana  Lottery;  and  the  end  is  not  ycit. 
'I'he  whole  history  of  Anieri(;an  suinmtM-  resorts  may  bo  safely  (diall(Mij,'ed  to 
show  anoth(!r  sucdi  instiinee  of  rapid  growth,  or  ol'  a  popularity  mure  lirmly 
established  or  better  (h'servtid.  That  stattsnuMit  invites  us  to  a  survey  ol'  the 
island  itscdf",  thou^^di  it  may  seem  a  j^ood  deal  lik(j  threshini,'  old  straw  to  ^'o 
over  }j[round  so  w»dl  known  as  .Mount  I)es<M"t  is  to-day. 

Loii)^  a^o,  when  a  few  storm-beaten  e.\i)lorers  were  Ljropinj,^  about  the  (toast, 
scfiiiif;  (rverywlu're  nature  seeminj^dy  iutntncduMl  af,'ainst  civilization,  this  rcf^iou 
ol)tained  the  romantic  name  ol'  ,\cadia.  The  l''rench  voya},'<'rs  who  adopted  it, 
or  coined  it,  as  the  case;  may  be,  hastcMUMl  to  secuic  its  otlicial  san(rtion  by 
letters-patent  bearinj^  the  spacious  scrawl  of  Henri  (Jiuatre,  "that  lusty  ^'allant, 
that  very  devil,"  wln»  then  and  there  extemh^d  his  rcj^al  sceptre,  over  all  Mew 
Kn^dand,  and  ntu(di  besides. 

'I'his  was  the  (udebrated  ])atent  of  l(»(t.'{  {^'ranted  to  the  (!h('valier  I)r'  Monts,' 
j(ov«'rnor  of  Tons,  in  tint  old  province  of  Sainton^fc,  where  both  he  and  liis  dis- 
tinguished iniijWrc  ('ham|)laiu  lirst  drew  breath. 

Km'.U  scrap  of  history  that  w(!  now  i)i(d;  up  seems  llavoi'cd  with  that  spice  of 
ntmance,  of  {gallantry,  of  (diivali'y,  whi(di  is  so  appiitizing  after  tin;  .savorless 
nioords  of  a  purely  jiractical  people;. 

Mr.  I'arkman  tcdls  us  how  this  Aciadia  looked,  and  what  it  was  like:  "  Rude 
as  it  was,  Acadia  had  its  (diarms,  and  it  has  them  still:  in  its  u  ihh'i'uess  of 
woods  and  its  wilderness  of  waves;  the  locky  ramparts  that  },niard  its  coasts ; 
its  deep,  still  bays  anrl  foaminj^  headlands;  the  towerin<f  clilfs  <tf  the  (Jrand 
Manan  ;  the  iniuimerable  islands  that  (duster  ai)out  I'enobscot  JJay ;  and  tlu; 
romantics  hij^hlands  of  Mount  J)esert,  down  whose  },'orj,'es  tiie  sea-fo},'  rolls  lik(! 
an  invading  host,  while  the  spires  of  lir-trees  pierce  the  sur^^iii};  vapors  like 
lances  in  tin;  smoke  of  battle." 

A  single  episode  of  history,  scarcidy  serious  in  its  orij^dn,  but  traffic  enouj^h 
in  its  se(pi(d,  has  impart(Ml  nuudi  scMitiiuiuital  interest  to  this  island  of  late. 

I  speak  of  the  time  when,  alter  exhausting  every  other  resounM',  it  was  the 
fashion  to  be  pious  at  (!ourt,  and  tivia-y  nobh;  lady  have  lier  father  (lonfessor. 
Fn  those  days  of  war  and  intri},Mie  Madanu;  tlu;  Mar(nus(!  de  (Juendu'ville^  was 
seizcMl  with  a  burninj^  desin;  to  bec(tme  the  I'onnder  of  a  ndif^^ious  colony,  or 
mission,  to  the  heathen  of  Acadia,  under  the  inspiration  and  {^'uidance  of  the 
.Jesuits.  She  herself  was  abovi;  all  reproa(di ;  i)ut  the  notorious  proHi^^acy  of 
th(!  regency  of  Marit!  de  Medicis  is  too  w(dl  known  to  need  further  eonnnent. 
This  proposed  mission  was  to  Ik;  the  root  through  whi(di  tin;  j)owerful  order  of 
.lesus  should  spread  its(df  out  ov(;r  all  A(;adia,  diseonc(;rt  its  enemies,  both  lay 
juid  (duindi,  and  assume  sole  (diarge  of  tin;  souls  of  tin;  Ixuiighted  heathen,  for 
whom,  be  it  said,  there  was  th(;n  no  probationary  period  aft(;r  death.  That  illus- 
trious sinner,  the  rpieen  regent,  set  the  example  to  her  ladit^s  by  opening  her  own 


MOLNT    iJKSKirr    ISLAM). 


Ht 

or. 
l/iis 

or 
,li(f 

of 
lit. 

of 

ly 

or 


I.I.N  II. i;m  w. 


y)urs('.      The  whole  coiui  liiistt'Ufd  to   follow  tlic   fiisliioii.     With  the  iiioiicy.s 

thus  ol)tiuii('(l  the  Muniuisc  littcd  out  one  small  shi|»,  which  set  sail  aiiiiil    the 

prayers  of  its  pious  pationess.     This  vessel  east  aiieiior  under  Mount  Desert  in 

the  month  ol'  May,  lOI.'l,  alter  experieneiiii;  an  eneo\iiiter 

with    the    i'o^'s   of   (Iranil  Manan  whieii   put  all  on  hoard 

in    ^M'eat    peril    <d'    their   lives.     In    ^'ratitudti    for    their 

deliveiaiiee  from  shipwreek,  the  fathers  called  their  first 

anchorage  Saint  Sauveur.     While  the  colonists  were  dehat- 

iu},'  anion<.(   themselves   what  (bourse  to  steer  next,  sonn; 

Indians  pa<ldled  oif  to  the  ship,  and  piloted  her  int<i  thi^ 

nohle    sound    that    parts    the   island    in   two,    and    is    its 

natural  haven.     AlthouL;h  tlu'ii'  tixed  destination  was  the 

l'enol)s<M)t,    the    colonists,   (lonceivinjf    that   the   hand    of 

(lod   had    led  tln'm   h<  ir,  dcided  to  hej^in  their   liahita- 

tions  where  they    wei'e.      Without  seekiii,!.;   i'urther  they 

thei'efoiT   set  t-lieniselves    to    the  task   before  them;   but 

they  were   hardly  setth'(l   in   some,  ordi-r  on   shore,    with 

their  half-manned  bark  lyinj^  out  at  amdior  in  the  stream, 

when  an    Knj;lish  ship  bore  down  upon  them  with  ;.,'uns 

shotted,  colors  displayed,  and  mat,clies  li,t,dited. 

At  this  moment  the  Frencdi  ship  oifered  an  easy  prey  ; 

for  as  the  stranj,'er  approached,  she  ponr<'d  in  a,  {l(\stru(;tive  Ijroadside,  to  which 

her  defeni^eless  antaj^onist  could  make   no  rejdy.      In  vain    Klory,  the    Kiench 

captain,  screamed  to  his  imui  to  fire:  no  one  seems  f,o  have  had  the  couraj^t; 
to  obey,  except  Hrotlnu'  dii  Tliet,  who,  beinj,'  on  board, 
i)rav(dy  snatcluMl  up  a  match  and  iired  tiie  first  shot.  See- 
in}^  they  would  be  sunk  at  their  anchois,  the  l''rencli  sailois 
then  cut  their  cable,  whicli  caused  them  1-o  di'ilt  out  of  the 
fire.  'i"o  nn-et  this  mano'uvi'c,  Arj,'ail,  the  Mni^Iish  com- 
majider,  (piicddy  wore  round  and  ^'ave  them  another  broad- 
side, whiidi  decided  the  comiiat.  i'>rother  du  'J'het  lell  across 
the  tiller,  with  a  musket-ball  throutfli  the  liody.''  l"'lory  and 
several  others  were  wounded.  The  i<'rench  then  cried  out 
that  they  surrend(U'ed,  and  lii'in^r  ceased. 

Ar}.,'all  made  eipudly  cpnck  w(M-k  of  tiu;  colonists  ashore. 
Some  wen;  cai  ried  off  captives  to  Virj^inia,  and  sonn^  suffered 
to  make,  their  way  l)!w;k  to  Port  Itoyal  as  they  could,  with 
tli(f  warning'  not  to  be  aj^ain  found  trespassing  on  Enj^lish 
j^M'ound. 

The  hopes  of  th(^  founders  of  this  colony  were  thus 
(!omplet(dy  wreciked.      Its  brief  life  and  sudden  overthrow, 

the  swiftness  with  which  the  action  passed,  leaves  us  in  doubt  to  this  day  what 

spot  of  ground  was  thus  consecrated   by  the  blood  of  its  founders.     It  is  true 

that  up  to  the  time   that  th(!  island    became    famous,  nobody    scmmhs  to  havcf 


(fKNTI.KWO.M  AN,     HlOf). 


Mi 


M 


294 


THE    I'lXE-THKK   COAST. 


I: 


J1 


h 

Is  ; 

Hi 


I    !\ 


thought  the  matter  worth  wasting  time  upon.     The  incident  itself  Avas  hardly 
remeuibcred ;  nor  can  local  tradition  lift  the  veil. 

Th(!  English  of  that  day  seemed  equally  determined  to  obliterate  everything 
that  might  serve  to  identify  the  island  with  French  occuimtion  or  establish 
a  claim ;  so  when  the  Boston  colonists  of  lO.'JO  sighted  this  island  as  their  first 
land,  they  v/ere  told  it  was  called  Mount  Manscll/  and  Governor  Winthrop  has 
set  down  in  his  '*  .Fournal "  how  a  ])igt'(in  Hew  on  board  the  ship,  like  another  dove 
returning  to  the  Ark,  to  tell  them  that  the  dry  land  had  once  more  risen  from 
the  sea ;  and  how  the  sweet  air,  wafted  to  them  from  the  shore,  was  like  the 
smell  of  a  garden,  and  did  much  refresh  them. 

From  this  time  down  to  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Mount  Desert 
was  given  over  to  its  j)rinutive  solitude,  broken  only  by  the  rude  encampments 
of  wandering  savages  who  canu;  to  fish,  or  hunt  the  moose, 
or  mustered  there  in  arms  foi-  some  bloody  foray  on  the 
war-worn  New  England  coast.'  Possibly  th(!  dark  tah;  <jf 
Saint  iSauvenr  may  luive  been  drawn  upon  to  stimulate 
their  hatred  the  more,  if  their  fathers  had  kept  the  tradition 
alive  over  tlieir  council  fires.  At  such  times  the  mountains 
surrounding  Sonu!s'  Scnnid  luive  ecdioed  to  the  songs  of 
rugged  bands  inured  to  war,  and  animated  by  its  spirit, 
whose  miserable  descendants  now  come,  with  tlie  jtrint  of 
a  degenerate  and  ignoble  race  upon  their  faces,  to  peddle 
ginu'racks  among  their  com     'rors. 

In  the  year  1747  a  vessel  that  was  employed  in  trans- 
porting a  colonial  re-enforcement  to  Annapolis,  Nova  Scotia, 
was  cast  away    on  ]\Iount  Desert  in    a  snow-storm.     The 
weather  was    very  severe,  and   seventy  or   eighty  ])ersons 
perished.      The    survivors   underwent   great  hardship  and 
suffering.       At  that   time    there  was  not   a  hous(!    on  the 
island,  nor  had  tlu?y  the  means  of  leaving  it.      Hope  and 
resolution    did   not   desert  them,  however.       With  materials  saved    from   the 
wreck  they  built  a  boat,  by  means  of  which  news  of  their  deplorable  situatio?: 
was  carried  to  Townsend. 

This  long  la])se  in  tlie  history  of  Mount  Desert  In-iugs  us  to  the  period  of  il  s 
second  occu))ation  by  white  men. 

Measures  looking  to  i)ermanent  settlement  here  were  initiated  by  Governor 
Francis  Bernard,  of  Massachusetts,  who  so  won  over  the  General  Court  of  that 
colony  by  his  first  speech,  that  they  made  him  a  present  of  Mount  Desert 
outright."  This  was  in  1762.  The  governor  had  laid  out  a  town  at  Southwest 
Harbor,  which  he  intended  making  the  island  metropolis ;  and  he  had  tak(m 
some  steps  toward  bringing  in  settlers  also,  when  the  troubles  that  rendered  his 
administration  so  unbearable  caused  his  recall.  By  this  time  the  donors,  who 
had  been  so  carried  away  by  the  charm  of  his  oratory,  would  have  hanged  him 
with  a  good  conscience. 


LAWYKli. 


illfllHNM 


-imdmmatmm 


AKJLNT    DKSEiri"    ISLAND. 


After  Ji(;rnanl  cAuno.  tlic;  Revolution  with  its  (flieok  to  all  prosperity,  its 
confiscations,  and  its  hatreds.  Bernard's  i)roperty  went  with  the  rest ;  but  after 
the  war  was  over,  his  son  Jolm,  who  had  remained  in  the  country,  a  (juiet 
spectator  of  i)assing  events,  succeeded  in  gettinj,'  restored  to  liiiu  the  west  half 
of  the  island.  The  other  half  was  also  restctred,  not  to  liernard's  heir,  but  to 
Madanu!  Th(''r6se  de  Grej^oire,  the  granddaughter  and  heiress  of  La  Motte  Cadil- 
lac/ and  to  her  husband,  liartheleniy,  who  thereupon  scHled  at  Hull's  Cove, 
where  they  afterwards  lived  and  died  as  American  citizens.  The  claim  of  these 
(Jregoires  to  Mount  Desert  was  allowed,  not  so  nuu'h  on  its  nu'rits,  —  for  in 
that  light  il  was  a  pure  gift,  —  as  an  exhibition  of  that  abounding  gratitude 
toward  our  French  allies  which  made  even  the  most  obsolete  claim  a  debt  of 
honor. 


Ml' 

I!       ■' 


*'l 


SAUGENT'H    mountain,    KltoM    Till:    SOINK. 


Having  thus  swejjt  the  historic  horizon  through  the  medium  of  musty  rec- 
ords, we  are  all  the  more  imi)atient  to  get  acquainted  with  those  pi('tures(pie 
features  through  which  the  island  luus  accpiired  its  later  prestige. 

It  is  as  if  the  granite  hills  of  New  Hampshire  had  been  trans])orted  to  the 
shores  of  the  Atlantic  to  form  a  man'  imposing  display.  And  though  then;  are 
so  many  ways  of  reaching  the  island,  none,  I  am  sure,  shows  off  its  rare  condn- 
natiou  of  shore  and  mountain  to  so  much  advantage  as  the  approach  from  sea, 
—  the  way  of  the  discoverers  and  explorers. 

But  we  shall  sail  without  wind  and  ride  without  horses. 

As  we  come  toward  the  island,  out  of  the  west,  we  first  make  out  what  seems 
a  solitary  mountain,  darkly  blue,  cool  as  an  i(udx'rg,  lifted  up  above  the  coast. 
By  what  chance  has  this  freak  of  nature  heaved  or  lodged  itself  against  these 
shores  ? 

Upon  getting  closer,  the  mass  expands  into  a  crown  of  barren  suninuts,  more 


290 


THK   PINK-TRKE   COAST. 


I  1 


It :  '  )• 

I 


ijf: 


or  less  pronounced,  one  of  which,  standing  as  it  does  at  the  head  of  the  (diaiii, 
easily  overtoj)s  the  rest,  so  becoming  the  fixed  landmark  of  the  islnnd,  ns  well 
as  of  all  our  journeyings  here,  since  it  is  everywhere  conspicuous  by  its  height, 
its  bare,  grayish  white  crags,  and  by  the  house  perched  there  like  another  Ark 
after  another  Deluge.     This  is  Green  Mountain. 

Should  we  first  touch  at  l>ass  Harbor,  that  secluded  little  port  cut  out  of 
the  southwest  corner  of  the  island,  the  mountains  will  have  beg^ni  for  us  that 
series  of  panoramic  shiftings,  those  majestic  evolutions,  which  so  charm  every 
one  by  the  infinite  variety  of  pictures  they  constantly  unfold.  Surely  such 
lieroic  figures,  moving  to  such  stately  measures,  are  seen  nowhere  else  even  upon 
this  favored  coast. 

We  come  out  of  Bass  Harbor  to  sail  round  one  of  the  boldest  of  all  the  island 
headlands.     Directly  in  the  offing  lie  the  Placentia  Islands,  first  of  the  remark- 
able series  of  outwoi  Ic;  that  so 
distinguish    the    harbors   and 
littoral     of     Mount     Desert.** 
Gott's    Island,  of  this  grou]», 
has  been   inhabited  by  fishei'- 
men  for  more  than  a  hundred 
years.     "What   life  is  there  is 
briefly  set  forth  in  the  words 
of  one  of  the    islanders;    for 
there  is  not  much  to  tell,  and 
little    to   learn,    except'   from 
the  example   of    simple   man- 
ners  and    primitive    economy 
existing  in  close  contact  with 
opulence    and    luxury.       Ihit 
what     ivs  our  happy  islander? 
"  When  we  see  Green  Mountain  and  Blue  Hill  cover  d  with  snow,  we  can  see 
one  advantage  of  living  on  an  island.     Although  there  are  many  disadvantages 
connected  with  an  island  life,  Ave  have  neither  tramps  nor  intoxicating  liijuors ; 
we  have  never  seen  an  intoxicated  jjerson  on  the  island.     When  we  retire  at 
night,  we  rarely  fasten  our  doors,  except  in  case  of  storms  or  gales  of  Avind. 
There  is  not  a  dog  on  the  island,  as  the  people  do  not  believe  in  keeping  a  nui- 
sance.    The  houses  are  all  neat  and  cosy,  and  Avell  painted,  and  there  never  has 
been  one  burned  since  the  island  has  been  inhabited.     We  have  no  rats,  mos- 
quitoes, or  mud.     Our  men  are  fishermen,  Avith  few  exceptions." 

After  turning  the  high,  rusty-i-ed  crag,  called  Bass  Harbor  Head,  Avhere  a 
squat  little  lighthouso,  in  Avhite  cassock  and  black  cap,  sits  denuirely  looking 
off  to  sea,  Ave  see  before  us  still  another  and  larger  cluster  of  islands,  covering 
the  approaches  to  a  deep  indent  of  the  sea,  over  Avhich  the  mountains  bend 
doAvn  as  if  to  shut  it  out  from  all  intrusion.  These  are  the  Cranberry  Islands,'' 
so  called,  and  that  shut-in  Avater  is  Somes'  Sound. 


HKLL-KUOY. 


MOUNT   DESEIIT   ISLAND. 


297 


Threading  our  way  through  the  difficult  channel  here,  we  soon  leave  Long 
Ledge  and  its  lonely  bell-buoy,  rocking  and  tolling  on  the  passing  swell,  to  coast 
along  a  natural  sea-wall  formed  of  broken  rock,  which  here  skirts  the  shore 
and  breaks  off  the  sea.  This  has  always  been  accounted  one  of  the  curiosities 
of  the  island.  lUit  we  have  now  entered  a  broad  road,  the  vestibule  of  Somes' 
Sound,  at  a  point  where  tlio  great  hills  before  us  ave  cleft  at  the  very  centre  of 
the  line,  as  if  some  enormous  wedge  had  been  driven  straight  up  into  the  heart 
of  the  island.  Strange  thoughts  come  over  us  as  we  look  up  through  the  sun- 
dered moinitains!  Nothing  but  an  earthquake,  followed  by  the  rush  of  an 
ocean,  could  have  pierced  that  embattled  front  of  granite. 

Two  harbcn-s  are  hid  away  at  opposite  corners  (jf  this  sound.  Southwest 
Harbor  opens  at  our  left ;  Northeast  Harbor,  at  our  right.  We  steer  for  rhe 
first,  to  find  something  like  the  whole  popuhition  awaiting  us  at  the  pier. 

As  the  natural  gateway  of  the  island.  Somes' 
Sound  controls  its  topography.  Thus  Southwest 
Harbor  may  be  considered  as  the  strategic  capital 
for  the  western  half,  as  Bar  Harl)or  is  for  the 
eastern.  The  Sound  soon  wanders  oft'  among  the 
mountains. 

All  the  sunniiits  are  noAv  in  plain  sight.'" 
Those  rising  at  the  east 
are  superbly  massed  in 
one  great  grou}"),  and  look 
highest ;  those  lifted  in 
the  west  stand  well 
apart,  so  as  to  be  easily 
distinguished,  and  in 
their    gray     coats     and 

rounded  backs  look  like     '^^''^^i^iAl/,'^' 
a     herd     of     elephants 
marching      majestically 
across  the  island. 

The  village  at  South- 
west Harbor  being  the 
oldest  on  the  island,  most  of  the 
traditions  naturally  cluster  about  its 
neighborhood.  For  example,  tht\  sup- 
posed site  of  ]\[adame  d''  Guercheville's  ill-starred  colony  is  only  two  miles 
above,  on  the  Avest  shore  of  the  Sound,  at  Fernald's  Point.  At  least, 
that  spot  seems  to  best  answer  to  the  description  given  by  Father  Biard, 
who  was  one  of  the  company.  Seven  miles  up,  at  the  head  of  the 
Sound,  the  little  village  of  Somesville  is  a  sort  of  centre  u])(m  which  all 
the  roads  of  the  island  converge ;  and  as  one  of  them  crosses  to  the  i)ridge, 
joining  IVIount  Desert  with  terra  firma,  the  iniportance  of  Southwest  Harbor, 


somes'  sound. 


'  '1 

■  Hili 


i 


1  ihj 
1 1, . 


L'!)8 


TIIK    I'lNK-THKK   COAST. 


m  ^ 


iM't'orc  stfiim  took  i\w.  i)l;i<'<'  ol'  wind,  may  Im'  seen  iit  a  ^fliiiicc.  In  point,  of 
tact,  this  was  tlu'  gn'ut  tlionjuglilim!  ul'  tlic  ishuul  b(^l'oi(!  tlio  day  of  sunmaT 
travel  canic. 

Till!  sea  was  always,  iKtwcvci-,  tlu^  road  that  the  islanders  were  most  acciis- 
tomt'd  to  travel,  and  the  one  they  liked  best. 

Southwest  llai'lior  experieneed  a.  loss  of  jjrestige  as  soon  as  I'>ar  Harbor  was 
diseovcM'ed.  It  maintains,  nevertheless,  a  sort  of  dignified  rivalry  whicdi  not  a 
few  travidlers  prefer  to  the  ostentatious  newness  of  Mount  Desert's  acknowl- 
edged sumuKU-  eajiital.  I"'or  one  thing,  it  preserves  its  old  simplicity.  Have 
we  come  seeking  I'cpose  for  mind  and  body '.'  One  look  announces  a  haven  of 
rest.  Its  land-locked  harl)or,  its  cindet  of  islands,  its  backgruuml  of  mmintains, 
its  sound  conducting  to  new  scenes  or  storied 
shores.  de(dare  Southwest  Ilai'bor  to  be  in  no 
way  deficient,  either  in  natural  attractions  or 
scenic  beauty. 

Vears  ago  (roiua-al  Totten  strongly  urged 
upon  the  government  the  advantages  ]ik(dy  to 
arise   from  tui'ning  this  harbor  into  a  naval 
and   military   arsenal.       It   was  a   pet  ju'oject 
ol'  his.      The  renu)teness  of    the  island    from 
centres  ol'    population    caused   the 
scheme,  however,  to  sleep  the  slee]t 
of  oblivion.     Newport  has  its  for- 
tress,   its    naval     reviews,    its    i il- 
lusion   of    military    life    into    the 
more  prosaic    civil    life.       So    has 
Point  Comfort.      Perhaps  this  may 
be  the  one  thing  wanting  to  till  out 
the  full  measure  of  Mount  Desert's 
many  attractions. 

Northeast  Harbor  is  a  siMpies- 
tered  nook,  rising  to  wooded 
heights,  in  which  one  imagines  no  end  of  sylvan  retreats.  TIk^  air  grows 
warmer,  and  is  heavy  with  the  fragrance  of  the  pines.  And  the  fa(!es 
that  look  down  at  us  from  the  wliiirf  are  as  lirown  as  berries.  Then,  too, 
there  is  a  refreshing  atinos])lien'  of  (piiet  about  the  little  village,  Avitli  its  neat 
dwellings  and  modest  (diapel,  that  makes  it  seem  closer  to  nature  than  any  we 
have  yet  seen. 

lM)r  an  hour  longer  our  progress  round  the  high  eastern  shore  shows  us  one 
continuous  wall  of  naked  ro(!k,  or  rather  the  crushed  and  iionderous  fragnuMits 
of  one,  now  broken  into  by  coves,  now  bulging  out  in  grim  headlands,  now 
retreating  again  under  the  shadow  of  the  mountains  of  which  they  are  the  out- 
works. On  this  battered  front  is  written  the  story  of  a  thousand  storms  and  a 
thousand  battles. 


■,((W'/"''l'>i 


WHAHl'    AND   SAW-MILL,    SOMKSVILLE. 


MOrXT   DKSKKT   ISLAND. 


L'OO 


So,  sailing  on,  our  next  landiii},'  will  lu^  at  Seal  Harlior,  whcro  another 
suniuicr  scttlcniciit  appears  in  its  holiday  dress.  It  is  from  here  lli;it  tlie 
romantie  r(!f,'ion  lying  about  Jordan's  Lake  is  reacdied  by  a  eross-road  striking 
directly  off  from  th<^  shore  into  the  luiart  of  the  mountains;  but  the  imi)rove- 
ments  now  in  progress  nvv  designed  to  ciirry  travel  still  furtlu'r  through  this 
absolutely  virgin  wilderness  of  woods  and  lakes,  (juite  across  the  mountain 
range,  and  out  upon  tlu^  shores  of  Eagle  Lake,  somo  three  miles  from  l>ar 
ILirbor,  and  on  the  reverse  side  of  the  mountains.  The  route  will  thus  pene- 
trate into  th(!  most  secret  nooks  of  the  i.sland. 


KOCKH,    MOt'NT    DKSKKT. 

And  now  wo,  are  jjassing  out  from  the  shelter  of  outlyiiig  islands,  to  bo 
lifted  again  on  the  swell  of  the  open  sea. 

Here  begins  an  exhibition  which  no  on»!  should  grudge  coming  a  hundred 
miles  to  witness, — tlu;  stony  feet  of  mountains  washed  by  the  obedient  oc(!an. 
r>ut  it  is  no  labor  of  love,  truly!  One  by  one,  swift,  stealthy,  and  noiseless,  the 
great  wallowing  waves  heave  themselves  uj)  against  the  rugged  masses  of  rock 
with  prodigious  force.  The  hithlen  ledges  are  i)assed  at  a  bound,  but  their 
sharp  tusks  gore  and  tear  the  breaker  into  tongues  of  foam,  which  dart  hitlun- 
and  thither,  hissing  like  angry  serpents.  Its  nu)nuMitum  is  checked,  but  the 
next  sea  forces  it  on  again  :  the  Atlantic  is  behind  it,  and  on  it  must  go.  Once 
more  the  broken  billo\v  shakes  its  white  mane,  and  rushes  on  into  the  old  piled- 


I 


UN 


I 


t 


lih' 


:m) 


TIIK    IMNK-TUKK   COAST. 


If '  ' 


n 


i  I 


H!!!il 


Up  breaches  with  ii  vonv  of  (Icfiiuicc     ('rasli  goes  tlio  water!  uj)  leaps  the  spray! 

A  hundred  pitfalls  open  to  suck  it  down.     Its  Hurry  and  foam  secMu  lik<!  the 

torment  of  some  expiring;  mon- 
ster, l)rou}^ht  fortli  liy  a  Dan- 
tes([ue  imagination.  Little  by 
little,  one  by  out!,  the  smotli(!r(!(l 
roeks  struf^gle  uj)  out  (jf  tho 
whirlpool  of  enierahl-f,'re(!n, 
(^•ackliiij,'  water.  Kor  a  momcfnt 
it  seems  as  if  the  oeean  had 
exhausted  itself  with  this  ef- 
fort. Tiien  the  coast  opiMis 
wide  its  streaming  jaws  aj,'ain 
to  the  coming  wave. 

I'assin^'  still  on  by  Otter 
Cove  and  its  hif^h  eastern  elitf," 
which  are  linely  pn^si^nted,  w« 
are  soon  u|t  with  (Jreat  Head, 
that  colossal  torso  of  jfray-whitci 
f^'ranite,  bulj^iiij^  far  out,  and 
heaved  Iii^di  up  alxtve  th(!  sur- 
roundiu}^  wnick.  of  whi(Oi  it 
.seems,  indeed,  the  sole  survi- 
vor. It  is  fearfully  dented  and 
beaten  in  by  storm  and  frost. 
We  s(((!  the  deep  holes  th;it  the 
sea  has  worked  out  at  its  ba.si; ; 
we  cast  our  eyes  up  to  get  an 
idea  of  its  altitude,  and  w« 
make  a  mentid  calculation  as  to 
how  long  it  will  be  before  this 
(diff,  undermined  in  its  turn, 
Avill  come  crashing  down  like, 
thos((  of  which  the  ruins  are 
the  oidy  remaining  evidencie. 
l>ut  we  do  not  know  where  to 
begin.  Tlu;  cliff  (u)unts  the 
ag(!S  as  we  count  tin;  years. 

We  now  get  sight  of  a  still 
longer  headland  advancing  out 
from  the  shore  befon*  us.  It  is 
Schooner  Head,  a  ))romont()ry 
thrown  oft"  by  Newport  Moun- 
tain, which  gets  its  name  legiti- 


OTTEK   CLIFF,    MOUNT    DESERT. 


MOINT    DKSKKT    ISLAND. 


;{(H 


iiiatcly  enouRh,  notwithstanding?  the  otTorts  niiidc  to  cry  it  down,  from  the  riidf 
outlint's  of  a  ves.sjd  acMudcntally  fornit'ii  un  its  v('rti<^al  wall.  More  than  once 
I  iiave  heard  it  ronndly  declared  a  hwinl)U<,',  a  ])liantoni  ship,  or  a  caricature. 
All  the.se  an;  lihels.  'IMiis  picture  on  the  wall  must  he  seen  in  the  rij,dit  lif^dit, 
instead  of  heinj?  condt'mned  like  the  mediocre  pictures  of  our  c.xhihitions, 
JK'cause  it  hai>pens  to  h(^  hadly  hunj,'.  If,  for  instance,  the  noonday  sun  is 
shining'  full  upon  the  (ditf,  it  will  Ite  vain  to  look  for  the  resend»lan(n' ;  hut 
wlieu  Ili(^  face  of  the  (dilf  is  in  shadow,  let  us  say  in  the  afternoon,  the  pictured 
schooner,  riding   under 

mainsail  and  jib,  stands  -, ., 

out  as  ch'ar  and  dis- 
tinct as  <jne  could  wish 
to  see  it. 

The  Spoutin<;  Horn, 
.a  deep  rift  in  the  rock, 
driven  up  throu},di  this 
clitf  from  base  to  sum- 
mit, is  seen  to  the  hest 
advantaj^i!  oidy  when 
there  is  a  heavy  sea  to 
set  it  in  full  play,  when 
a  jet  ol'  line  spray  is 
t  li  ro  w  n  lii;^h  altovcs 
the  top  of  the  cliif. 
Scliooiier  Head,  four 
miles  from  r>ar  Har- 
bor, with  its  romantic 
Anemone  ( 'ave,  situated 
a  littlci  south  of  the 
Spoutinj?  Horn,  is  one 
of  the  favorite  resorts 
of  the  island. 

N(!ar  by  is  the  Lynam  homestead,  lon,<;  a  favoriti^  haunt  of  those  artists 
whos«!  pictures  first  made  Mount  Desert  famous.  This  certifiers  that  we  are 
anions  the  most  pi(ttur(!sque  sccMies  of  the  island.  Now  and  then  the  road  to 
liar  Harbor  (M)mes  in  si,i,dit,  to  disap])(!ar  a<fain  in  the  thi(;k  woods  of  Newport 
Mountain,  like  a  <,qr(lle  that  has  cut  into  the  superabundant  flesh.  Here  is 
little  Thrumcai»,  to  which  we  nnist  ijive  a  <food  berth  in  ])assin^.  Ihit  cottai,ns 
by  the  shore,  and  sailini,'  craft  on  the  sea,  annouiu'.e  that  we  are  nearin^^  oir. 
))ort.  Xewpoi't  Mountain  now  rears  its  grisly  cliffs  high  abov(f  our  heads.  .\ 
third  cluster  of  islands,  wilder  and  more  forbidding  than  any  we  have  yet 
seen,  —  all  bald  rocks  below,  with  a  htratlgear  of  bristling  pines  above. — 
stretches  a  broken  liiu'  across  our  course.  Through  the  intervals  we  look  off 
north  into  the  sparkling  «!Xi)anse  of   Frenchman's   l'»ay.     More  islands,   more 


8CHOO>fER     IIKAO. 


r^ 


;{()L' 


TlIK    I'INK-TKKK   (JOAST. 


inouiitiiiiis,  inont  luyKtcrious  bh'iuliiiK  oi  land  ami  water  in  tin-  distiiMcc,  nifft 
us  wliiclu'viT  way  we  Innk.  At,  our  riglit  the  uiainlaml  ri.scs  again  in  a  cluster 
of  misty  suniniits,  —  tint  landmark  of  this  liay,  tlw;  sharply  dt'nti'd  S(di(iodi(; 
Hills.  Out  Itcl'dn!  us  is  a  roadstead  thick  with  pleasure  craft  of  every  sort  and 
size.  And  lu-re  ut  last  is  our  summer  city  of  pleasure  itself,  iiut  we  have  seen 
enou^'h  for  ono  day;  wo  want  to  sit  down  wlien;  wo  can  think  it  all  over  in 
quii;t. 


■I.  i 


1  Dc  Monts'  cffurtH  to  plant,  a  <-nl(iiiy  iMidir  liis  patent,  are  tnalcil  ol'  in  the  cliapti  r  mi 
FCast-iMU't. 

-  Tlie  ]iatcnt  granted  to  Dc  .Munts  liail  Imtii  rcvokiil  at  tlic  in.stai f  the  nici-i'iiant.s,  wlio 

saw  their  tiadc  (!iit.  off  l)y  it..  'I'liey  (Iciionnccd  the  jiatcMl  as  a  monopoly  hnitfnl  to  the  inter- 
ests of  the  kingdom,  lint  especially  ruiimiiH  to  the  niaritiint^  ports,  preciHcly  as  the  Kn^lish 
nMTciiants  Hnhseijiicntly  did  the  privilcjies  ^;rant<'<l  to  .'^ir  1  erdinantio  (!oij;ch.  Clashin;;  inter- 
ests worked  nnt,  the  same  results  in  both  cases.  The  merchants  had  the  mo<t  inllncnce  at 
court,  or  rather  the  most  money,  which  in  those  days  of  venality  and  intri^aie  meant  nearly  the 
same  tiling.  .Madame  de  (Jnercheville  lirst.  procured  the  transfer  of  l)e  Monis'  ri^iits  to  her- 
self, and  then  olitainetl  a  new  patent  from  the  kin;;,  coverin;;  nearly  tht;  entire  Hcahoard  of  tin; 
Inited  States.  Her  colony  was  ileslined  for  tlu^  I'cnohscot,  prohahly  upon  tin;  report  made 
by  Chainplain,  or  perhaps  by  De  Monts  himself. 

" 'I'lu!  martyrdom  of  Du  Tliet  has  furuished  .Mi'.  ,\.  A.  Hayes  with  the  »i«///' for  a  novel 
entitled  "The  .lesiiil's  Uilii,'." 

*  The  name  Mount  .Mansell  was  probaiily  f^iven  in  honor  of  Sir  liuipeii  .Maiisell,  vice- 
admiral  of  .lames  I.  It  ohtainetl  anion;;  the  I'",iii;iisli  as  lale  as  l(i7<i,  bill  wnnlil  not  sliek. 
The  natives  called  the  island  l'emetii|,  nieaninf;  in  their  toii;;!ie  "at  the  head,"  and  prescrvcil 
in  one  of  the  summits. 

'•  The  island  offered  a  convenient  rendezvous  for  the  Penobscot  and  Hay  of  Fiindy  trilies. 
Ill  lliihiianrs  narration  of  the  captivity  of  Thomas  Cobbet,  l(!7<i,  an  aci^iunt  will  be  found  of 
the  way  the  Indians  jiasscd  their  winters  on  the  islaml. 

"  (ioveruor  IJernard  was  one  of  those  men  who  can  be  sometimes  useful,  but  never  po])ii- 
lar.  When  his  mind  was  not  taken  up  with  enforcing;  the  Stanij)  .\ct,  it  was  occupied  with 
such  s(!hcmes  as  that  narrated  in  thu  text,  iliist  what  he  <;ontcm)v.ated  doinj^  is  not  very  clear  ; 
but  the  settlers  who  are  found  on  the  islanil  diuiiif,'  the  ne.\t  tew  years  doubtless  canu)  with 
his  sanction  or  his  aid.  Abraham  Somes  came  as  early  as  171  in,  as  his  ;;randson  informed 
me,  settling;  at  the  head  of  the  sound  which  has  taken  his  name.  He  was  of  (iloiieesler, 
Mass.  In  the  course  of  the  next  decade  a  j^ood  many  followed  him,  and  by  the  close  of  tlu^ 
next  there  were  74t  inhabitants.  See  Williamson's  "  Maine."  John  |{ernard.  son  and  heir 
of  the  noveruor,  took  the,  title  of  baronet  upon  his  father's  decease.     See  chapter  on  I'lastport. 

''  Antonie  de  la  Motto  Cadilhic,  somt'tinu-H  styled  Lord  of  Mount  Desj-rt,  recH'ived  in  KIH8 
a  f;rant  of  this  island  from  tin;  French  kin;;,  as  tiie  reward  for  flistin^'uishcd  services  in 
Canada  and  Louisiana.  He  is  considered  the  founder  of  Detroit.  Sec  Charlevoix's  "New 
France"  ;   I'arkman's  "Frontenae,"  etc. 

'*  Tlu!  I'lacuntia  Lslands  are  Great  Prcsench,  or  lllack  Island,  the  outermost  one.  Little 
I'rescnch  (northwest),  and  (Jott's  (northeast).     Little  I'resench  is  name<l  on  a  chart  of  172."). 

*  Great  Cranlierry  has  liv»;  hundred  acres,  and  makes  the  west  channel  into  the  sound  ; 
Little  Cranberry,  which  the  new  residents  call  "  Islesford,"  lies  to  the  east  with  two  hundred 
acn^s ;  Sutton's,  formerly  Lancaster's,  lies  west  of  north  from  Little  Cranberry  ;  Haker's,  on 
which  there  is  a  li;;hthouse,  south,  with  a  reef  joining  it  to  Little  Cranberry.  The  ea.stern 
channel  into  the  sound  is  between  Sutton's  and  Bear  Island  (lighthouse),  the  latter  being  also 


MOJINT    DKSKKT   ISIwWI). 


.'«).'{ 


till'  mark  for  NorthciiHt  Harbor.  All  tlio  Cranberry  IsIiukIh  ant  iiiliabitrd  and  liavc  Kri>whi){ 
HiiiiiiiHT  ciiloiiicH.  'I'lify  caino  within  thu  (ir(!K"iro  ^niiit ;  witc  hcI  dfT  fmni  Moiiiil  DfHi-rt 
ami  ihcurporalt'il  in  1H;!II.  'I'liry  li.ivi-  a  Mctliiidist  cliiut'li,  hcIiuoIIiiiiihch,  and  a  iiitlilic  lil)niry. 
riify  iiwf  their  rise  to  lishiii;;,  and  their  nanu!  to  a  eninberry  Im^  nt'  two  hundred  acreH.  In 
very  Htiiriny  winter  weather  the  laHk  of  the  niail-(;arrierH  Ih  often  danKerouH,  lint  they  Heldnm 
uiIhh  making  thiii'  trip,  th(iii;;li  tlie  [niHtniaHler's  wife  lias  Haid  it  made  her  hair  "Hiaiid  on 
(!M<1 "  to  wati!li  the  |iru)^re,ss  of  the  iiiail-boat  when  HiandiiiK  ai  loss  for  the  island  close  reefed. 

•'  'I'liose  »'ast  of  the  soiiiul  are  llrown's,  Saif^eiit's,  the  lliilibles  or  Twins,  I'emetie,  (iieeii, 
Dry,  and  Newport  ;  thoHi;  at  the  west,  KobiiiHon's,  Do^;,  Klyiii^',  Iteecli,  and  the  two  peaks  o| 
Western  Mountain,  in  the  order  named.  All  lii^  in  parallel  ridps  trending  north  and  south. 
Itetween  llie.se  ridges  are  a  inimlier  of  fresh- wiiler  ponds.  Subordinate  elevations  ihoIoiik  the 
HK\m\  prineipai  rid^eH,  but  are  of  no  ^reat  hei^dit.  For  instance,  the  Miudiives  and  I'eak  of 
Otter  an-  outworks  of  Newitort  Mountain,  eomin^' to  the  shore  behind  (ileal  Head.  In  like 
manner  .Mo  it  Kebo  is  thrown  ojf  from  Dry  Mountain  at.  the  north,  (in  en,  Dry,  and  N'eW|iort 
form  the  baekKronnd  at  Mar  Harbor.  (Jreeii,  IV_'7  bit,  is  the  hi^jhest  of  all;  Dry,  I2(IH  feet, 
is  separated  only  from  (ireen  by  a  deep  cleft  ;  .Newport,  I2<i(>  feel,  is  perhaps  the  most  marked 
in  its  outlines.  These  Ihrei-  peaks  establish  the  topography  of  the  east,  shore  Urown's,  M(i(» 
f«!et,  and  Saru'ent's,  i;{44  feet,  wall  up  the  siaind  at  tin;  east;  anil  Widiinson's,  IW  bet,  Doj;, 
(170  feet,  and  Flying;  .Mountain,  .'idb  bet,  al  the  west.  WcHtern  Mountain's  east  peak  is  ItlTIl 
feet;  west  jieak.  '.("I  feel.  McFarliind's,  T'll  b'cl,  is  the  northernmost  summit,  lyinj;  a  little 
north  of  west  from  Mar  Harbor.  Tlmu^di  not  mountainous,  the  northern  section  of  tlie  island 
is  hilly. 

"  otter  Cliff  is  five  miles  from  Mar  Harbor  by  the  road  tlirouj,di  the  (iorfje.  It  makes 
the  precipitous  sea-face  of  Oiler  Creek  I'oini,  and  is  greatly  admired  for  its  bold  castellated 
outlines.  This  headland  makes  with  (ireat  Head,  next  east,  a  cove  partly  funned  uf  Newport 
Meacli,  and  having  the  Meidiive  and  IVuk  of  Otl(;r  behind  it. 


-- mt/A-tzsil^-T 


TURTLE    LAKE,    MOL'NT    DEKEUT. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


I\     AM)    <UT    UK     l!Al;     IIAIM'.OI.'. 


V'  '  . 


"  'Fore  God,  you  liave  here  <a  ff  ';>i'.y  dwelling,  and  a  rich."'  —  h'imj  ILnrij  IV. 

A  (-CUllATELY  speaking,  liar  Harbor  is  no  harbor  at  nil,  but  a  roadstead 
--L^  oidy  half  sheltered  by  the  Porenpine  Islands,' — live  weird  luni])S  of  granite, 
I)rotruding  above  water,  a  little  Avay  off  tht"  land,  the  largest  of  Avhicdi  has  a 
snbmarine  attachment  with  Mount  Desert,  formed  of  a  strip  of  shinglt^  that  is 
bared  at  low  water,  all  awash  at  high  tide,  and  covered  iigain  at  tlie  Hood. 
Tliis  bar  and  island  make  clear  the  genesis  of  tlu;  nanu;  of  ISar  Harbor. 

The  other  islands  of  this  group  stretch  off  irregularly  round  the  roadstead,  a 
kind  of  broken-down  barricade,  with  deep  Avater  between  to  show  wliere  the 
sea  has  breached  it. 

There  is  a  farndiouse  on  Bar  Island,  and  some  land  unchn-  cultivation  there, 
—  a  strip  of  greensward  and  a  shag  of  Avoods,  — but  we  iiotice  that  the  farmer- 
owner,  who  awoke  one  fine  day  tc  ind  himself  a  millionnaire,  lias  also  fenced  in 
the  bar  joining  his  island  to  Mount  Desert,  Avith  a  row  of  saplings,  so  getting 
the  benefit  of  the  crops  of  herring,  mackerel,  or  porgies  that  are  brought  up  by 
this  weir,  and  left  stranded  by  the  tide,  when  o\w  Avould  only  have  to  gather 
up  his  loaves  and  fishes,  so  to  speak. 

This  simple  statement  Avill  elucidate  the  Avhole  phil(>soi)hy  of  lif(^  at  Par 
II  irhor  up  to  the  time  Avhen  the  golden  shower  began  falling,  and  every  one 
Avho  owned  a  little  land  ran  out  to  hold  his  hat.  Some  men  are  born  ri(di,  but 
here  it  Avould  seem  as  if  wealth  had  literally  been  thrust  upon  them. 

Not  a  few  of  our  best-known  seashore  resorts  are  but  the  natural  expansion 
of  decaying  villages,  — the  evolution  of  tlm  grub  into  the  butterfly,  so  to  speak, 
304 


IN   AND  OUT   OF    HAH    IIAUBOIl. 


305 


—  to  which  the  advent  of  siuniiKT  visitors  lias  given  a  new  lease  of  life  ;  others 
are  so  many  evidences  of  a  (!ohl  pnrpost^  to  turn  out  a  watering-place  to  order. 
While  there  is  a  certain  not  unpleasing  mellowness  about  tht;  ready-made 
article  which  is  wanting  to  the  product  of  a  day,  yet  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that 
a  great  many  very  worthy  people  look  up(jn  country  life  as  a  species  of  exile, 
and  coiuitry  living  as  but  another  unuw  for  actual  privation.  At  Bar  Harbor 
they  find  their  An^adia;  so  that  odd  but  not  uncommon  feeding  that  one  is  being 
(dieated  if  h»'  hapitens  into  a  place  where  money  will  not  procure  him  luxuries 
finds  nothing  to  feed  its  egotism  upon  at  Bar  llarljor,  where  mon(!y  will  buy 
everything.  Indeed,  Choate's  famous  mot,  "(iive  me  the  luxuries,  and  I  will  do 
without  the  necessaries  of 
life,"  might  be  taken  as  the 
accepted  creed  cd'  a  very  large 
following. 

The  sum  of  the  matter  is 
that  few  ]tlaces  afford  ground 
for  a  nu)re  instructive  study 
of  character  than  a  fashion- 
able watering-place  ;  and  now 
I  think  of  it,  why  nuiy  not 
that  be  a  primary  cause  for 
the  rise  of  a  new  literature,  — 
the  literature  of  the  summer 

n^sort,  in  fact,  — since  even  one  summer  must  furnish  no  end  of  affairs  of  the 
heart  ? 

The  study  might  appro])riately  begin  with  the  arrival  of  the  boat  at  the 
pier.  The  millionnaire  gets  into  his  carriage  and  imjUs  off  to  his  cottage,  followed 
by  admiring  looks ;  the  half-millionnaire  goes  to  the  most  exclusive  hotel,  ])ur- 
sued  with  obsequious  attentions;  the  huudred-thousand-dollar  man,  to  the  most 
pretentious  one,  hardly  noticed  at  all;  the  man  with  a  salary,  to  a  respecrtable 
one,  whose  guests  receivt;  him  numh  as  a  garrison  that  is  already  shcn-t  of 
provisions  might  an  unlooked-for  re-enforcemtMit;  and  so  on,  down  to  tlu;  unfor- 
tunate who  has  to  reckon  on  the  cost  of  everything  befondiand,  aiul  who 
feels  it  a  privilege  to  be  allowed  to  slip  away  unobserved  to  some  modest 
corner.  Everybody  is  subjected  to  the  same  magical  touchstone,  ('onse- 
qiiently  head-waiters  who  can  t(dl  how  much  a  gu(^st  is  worth,  simply  b}'  noti(^- 
ing  the  way  he  walks  into  the  dining-room,  are  sure  of  being  engaged  for  the 
next  season. 

Nobody  quite  realizes  what  Bar  Harbor  is  like  until  he  finds  himself 
absorbed  among  the  (Towd.  To  your  utter  surprise,  you  find  Broadway  among 
the  mountains  of  Mount  Desert,  New  York  six  hundred  mili^s  away  from  New 
York.  "You  meet  again  with  the  rustling  of  dresses,  the  confused  hum  oi' 
conversations  luid  steps,  the  offensive  splendor  of  artificial  lights,  the  obsequious 


I 


A     HIT    OK    HAIl    ISI,AM>. 


i 


I  ^^ 


aoG 


THE  PINE-TREE   COAST. 


ii  t! 


and  wearied  features  of  traffic,  the  skilful  display  of  the  shops,  and  all  the 
sensations  you  wanted  to  leave  Ixdiind." 

A  perst))!  who  liad  not  visited  liar  Harbor  for  fifteen  years  would  have  to 
turn  often  to  the  mountains,  the  sea,  and  the  islands  to  convince  himself  that 
he  was  really  standin<?  on  the  site  of  the  puny  village  of  that  day.  "Without 
doubt,  it  is  the  most  notable  example  of  rapid  growth  New  England  can  show 
in  this  direction,  and  unless  all  signs  fail,  it  bids  fair  to  hold  a  proud  pre- 
eminence as  "  the  capital  of  polite  life,  the  mustering-place  of  the  ph'asures  of 
the  world  of  fashion." 

It  is  curious  to  observe,  however,  that  whilt>  fashionable  people  came  here 
to  get  away  from  the  crowd,  they  have  drawn  the  crowd  after  them. 


} 


BAK    lI.VKISOIt,    FKOJI    IIAU    ISLAND. 


liii 


But  what  was  it  that  first  drew  these  fashionable  people  here,  —  the  people 
of  cultivated  taste,  travelled  people,  refined  people,  who  know  Xice  and  Naples, 
and  ]\Ionte  Carlo  and  Venice,  and  are  not  easily  carried  off  their  feet  by  the 
noisy  applause  of  the  claque  f 

Twenty -two  years  ago  liar  Harbor  began  to  draw  to  it  a  little  of  the  travel 
that,  before  that  time,  had  centred  wholly  about  Southwest  Harbor  and  that 
shore.  It  came  overland,  by  way  of  Sonu'svillc,  at  first;  for  there  Avas  then  no 
wharf  at  Bar  Harbor  at  which  a  steamer  could  land.  Tobias  Koberts,  who  was 
the  pioneer  landlord  here,  built  the  first  public  house,  the  "Agamont,"  in  ISOT. 
Roberts  was  also  the  storekeeper  and  general  factotum  of  this  out-of-the-way  little 
hamlet.  Daniel  Kodick,  the  owner  of  Bar  Island,  built  soon  after  Koberts ;  and 
so  late  as  1874  there  were,  perhaps,  twenty  buildings  all  told,  strung  out  at 
intervals  along  the  lane  then  leading  down  to  the  landing-place — those  for  the 
public  being  flimsy,  hastily  built  structures,  half  furnished  and  half  finished, 
kept  by  fishermen  or  farmers  turned  landlords  for  better  profit ;  because,  as  one 
of  them  very  honestly  said,  he  could  make  more  money  out  of  one  summer 


I-) 

ft 

M 

K 
U 

X 

U 

Q 

c 

?! 

w" 
ft 

■«! 
>-) 

M 

O 


T^l: 


t>  1  11 


1  ■  1 

i 

J  ■                  i 

' 


'1 


IX    AND   OUT   OF   BAR    IIARBOli. 


309 


boarder,  in  a  single  season,  than  from  the  labor  of  three  men  on  his  whole  farm. 
These  worthy  landlords  are  now  rejjresented  in  the  second  generation,  as  the  first 
indifferent  accommodations  are  by  the  great  hotels  over  which  they  })reside. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  discover  a  trace  of  this  petty  village  in  the  long  rows 
of  buildings  now  stretching  far  ont  into  the  couiitrv  on  every  hand,  or  of  the 
primitive  hotels  in  the  monster  hostelries  now  occupying  the  same  sites,  or 
of  the  landlords  them- 
selves,— raw  products  of 
this  rough,  strong  soil, 
that  they  were,  —  in  the 
s})ruced-up  personages 
who  own  the  same  sur- 
names. Certainly  it  is 
no  discredit  to  the  guild 
that  men  who  are  island 
l)orn  and  bred  should 
have  known  how  to  com- 
pel the  wave  of  pros- 
l)erity  to  carry  them 
along  with  it. 

Though  of  imposing 
appearance,  these  Bar 
Harbor  hotels,  with  their 
pie-crust  decorations,  are 
(iheaply  built,  and,  with 
few  exceptions,  cheaply 
furnished.  They  appeal 
strongly,  however,  to  the 
national  demand  for  the 
l)iggest  of  everything. 
If  crowded,  they  are  in- 
supportable ;  when  there 
are  only  a  handful  of 
guests,  they  are  inex- 
pressibly  dreary.      The 

big  landlords  say,  "  We  must  have  a  net  to  make  a  big  haul."  That  is  true, 
except  when  the  fish  have  struck  off. 

Bar  Harbor  is  conspicuously  lacking  in  the  charm  imparted  to  Newport  by 
its  delightful  historic  associations.  It  is  not  so  much  as  mentioned  in  the 
standard  history  of  the  state.  Hence  no  other  resource  is  open  but  our  eyes  and 
ears.  Our  excursion  of  yesterday  did  not  skim  off  all  the  picturesqueness  or  all 
the  poetry. 

I  have  just  returned  from  a  stroll  through  the  suburbs.  The  day's  routine 
was  evidently  just  beginning.     A  string  of  carriages  lined  the  curb  from  the 


TENNIS-PLAYER. 


310 


TIIK    riNK-THEK    COAST. 


hi 


i! 


I  ' 


In 


Rodirk  as  tar  as  tho  Crrand  Central.  Two  or  three  omnibuses  were  already  in 
waitin}^  to  take  passengers  to  Green  Mountain,  the  top  of  which  is  in  full  view 
from  the  streets.  For  the  longer  drives  to  Schooner  Head,  Great  Head,  or 
Somt'sville.  most  tourists  seemed  to  prefer  the  mountain  buckboard  wagon,  a 
most  democratic  sort  of  vehicle,  partly  suggestive  of  riding  on  a  rail,  and  [)artly 
of  being  tossed  in  a  blanket.  You  are  reassured,  however,  on  being  told  that 
if  one  is  overturned,  the  vehicle  ordinarily  escapes  Avithout  injury. 

The  most  striking  thing  I  saw  alxmt  tlu;  throng  in  the  streets  was  the 
singular  medley  of  costumes.  One  gets  the  impression  that  most  of  the  visitors 
have  travelled  liundreds  of  miles  in  order 
to  play  at  tennis.  Tlie  a(piati(!  side  of  life 
is  also  well  represented.  I  came  frecpiently 
across  the  gilded  sailor,  who  is  always 
shivering  his  timbers  at  the  '-hops,"  or 
smashing  his  tarry  top-lights  in  the  tennis- 
courts.  Upi)er-tendom  rolls  languidly  by 
in  elegant  turnouts ;  sharp-set  land  agents 


,   ^. ,,,„,%& 


^ 

'; 


■m,MZ^^^^^^ 


THK   iticKiiOAin)  WA«;<»x. 


lurk  in  the  open  doorways ;  florists,  caterers,  milliners,  photographers,  all  have 
spread  out  their  most  appetizing  or  enticing  displays  for  the  expected  custom- 
ers. There  goes  a  gun  in  th(!  harbor !  Another  nickel-plated  yacht  has  come  to 
anchor.  Another  floating  salon  tenders  its  round  of  visits,  receptions,  and  petitn- 
soiipers  to  break  the  monotony  of  life. 

The  winding  shore  path  leading  to  Cromwell's  Cove  is  still  as  charming  a 
promenade  as  ever.  You  enjoy  the  open  sea-view,  the  bracing  sea-air,  the 
splash  of  the  waves  at  your  feet,  the  gliding  sails,  the  tasteful  cottages,  with 
their  spaces  of  bright  turf,  their  variegated  colors,  their  carefully  tended 
shrubbery  and  flowers.  You  see  grave-looking  men  tossing  pebbles  into  the 
water  with  boyish  satisfaction,  peering  into  crevices,  picking  up  shells,  or  atten- 
tively examining  what  they  may  never  have  thought  worth  noticing  in  the 
whole  c-ourse  of  their  lives. 


w\ 

! 

1 

1  . 

.1 
'i 

1 

> 

1 

( 

•i:  I 


y 


It?: 


I 


I\    AND  OIT   OK    H.VIt    lIAIlUOlt. 


.'U3 


There  is  soincthiuf,'  in  that,  at  all  events. 

I  found  it  (juite  dift'crent,  however,  when  walking  in  the  street  skirting  this 
fine  bit  of  shore.  Here  the  inlu)S})ital)le  warnings,  "  No  Thoroughfare,"  "  Mo 
Trespassing,"  or  "No  Passage,"  stare  one  in  the  face  as  often  as  some  inviting 
by-way  tempts  one  to  turn  aside.  Would  not  sueh  of  our  seashore  towns  as 
have  any  oeenn-front  left,  show  a  wise  forecast  by  scftting  apart  some  portion  of 
it  for  the  use  of  the  peoi)le,  —  the  (iomniou  people  ? 

In  going  a  little  farther  on,  I  ran  up  against  tlu^  ill-favored  camj)  of  some 
peripatetic  Indians.  A  sharp  contrast,  truly  !  Wild-eyed,  bareheaded  boys  and 
girls  were  bringing  bundles  of  fagots  out  of  the;  neighboring  thickets,  on  their 
heads.  They  wcrt^  not  a  bit  frolicsome,  like  other  chihlren,  l)ut  had  a  hunted 
look,  as  if  they  had  been  sent  out  to  steal  and  expected  detection.  Sonus  well- 
dressed  ladies  stopi)ed  their  carriage  to  admire  these  dirty  brats  of  dirty  ])arents. 
Once  an  Indian,  always  an  Indian.  This  is  the  net  result  of  two  hundred  years' 
close  contact  with  (civilization, — civilization  in  the  land  of  schools,  colleges, 
churches,  the  Maine  law,  and  foreign  missions.  How,  then,  shall  we  hope  to 
civilize  the  savage  of  the  jtlains  ?  These  Indians  were  fidly  as  scjualid  as  their 
fathers.  lUit  then,  their  s(jualor  is  so  jncturescpie !  Besides,  there  is  a  ])reva- 
lent  notion  that  a  real  live  Indian  adds  something  to  the  attractions  of  tin? 
place.     He  is  a  feature.     8(^  have  him  we  must. 

Strange  to  say,  these  gypsies  are  everywhere;  allowed  t(i  hew  and  hack  the 
woods  un(diallenged.  You  can  hardly  turn  oif  the  road  to  right  or  left  without 
seeing  some  noble  birch  stripped  of  its  bark  to  make  knickknacks  of.  That  means 
death  to  the  tree.  You  meet  them  slinking  about  after  nightfall  with  loads  of 
basket-stuff  on  their  shoulders.  Their  fathers  knew  how  to  split  skulls  ;  these 
fellows  know  how  to  split  basket-stuff. 

Apropos  of  basket-nuiking,  the  Indians  possess  the  secret  of  dyeing  wood  to 
a  degree  of  perfection  not  yet  attained  by  our  most  skilful  workuuMi,  though  it 
is  believed  that  the  former  make  use  of  vegetable  substances  only.  The  secret 
seems  to  have  been  handed  down  among  them  from  a  remote  time,  and  they  are 
shrewd  enough  not  to  divulge  it. 

A  turn  around  the  skirt  of  the  village  brings  one  up  to  the  high  ridge  which 
overlooks  it  at  a  distance,  like  the  seats  of  an  amphitheatre.  In  this  ])lace,  those 
builders  who  found  the  shore-front  already  taken  up  have  intrencshed  them- 
selves, as  it  were,  against  the  advancing  village,  which  is  fast  closing  in  upon 
them.  Here,  they  are  far  from  the  madding  crowd ;  at  least,  for  the  present. 
And  here  they  may  enjoy  that  seclusion  which  is  no  longer  attainable  on  the 
shore  or  in  the  village  itself.  Beautiful  residences  of  almost  every  known  type 
—  rare  products  of  the  most  correct  taste,  the  best  skill,  the  most  lavish  expen- 
diture —  stand  thick  among  the  evergreen  groves,  from  which  a  warm,  resinous 
odor  exhales,  mixed  with  the  salt  breezes  from  the  bay.  This  hill  colony 
stretches  a  belt  of  mottled  colors  around  the  skirt  of  the  village,  of  which  it  is 
the  fashionable  citadel. 

Not  unfrequeutly,  when  deep  in  the  woods,  I  came  across  a  sort  of  skeleton 


314 


THE  i'INi:-tiu:k  coast. 


I!  i 


tower,  looking  ([uite  like  an  oil  derrick  ;  at  least,  if  it  had  been  in  the  oil  region 
of  the  Ivt'vstiine  State,  I  should  have  had  no  douht  about  it  whatever.  A  closer 
exaunnation,  however,  showi'd  tlieni  to  be  lookouts,  run  uj)  above  tlie  surround- 
ing woods,  SCI  that  by  ascending  the  rounds  of  a  huhU-r  for  seventy  or  eighty 
fet!t,  inti'iidiiig  purchasers  might  get  an  i(h'a  of  what  the  view  would  be  from 
the  riKils  of  iiuaginary  houses.  Is  the  Eiffel  Tower  but  an  adafttation  of  the 
IJar  Harbor  land-agent's  fertile  invention'.' 

r>ut  every  |)icture  has  its  light  and  shadow,  and  so  I>ar  II;irb(ir  has  its  slums, 
too.  (^)uite  a  large  portion  of  the  bay-front,  extending  northward  from  the  steam- 
boat hiniling,  has  been  handed  over  to  its  least  valuable  population.     It  couldn't 


TRAVELLEUS'    UOOM,    SOMKSVII.I.i:    IIOISE. 


be  a  city  of  i)leasnre  without  its  vices.  This  ueighborliood  is  crowded  with  cheap 
frame  ))uildings,  which  mostly  stand  on  leased  ground;  and  as  they  ])ay  a  hand- 
some rental,  the  proprietor  refuses  to  sell.  In  short,  I>ar  Harbor  ])resents  at 
once  all  the  extremes. — all  the  varied  i)hases  of  metro] )olitan,  subnrban.  and 
seashore  life, — the  fierce  struggle  for  wealth,  the  dead  weight  hanging  to  the 
heel  of  progress,  the  clashing  of  permanent  with  e])heuieral  ideas,  the  sudden 
fluctuation  in  values,  from  which  many  have  deduced  the  coming  downfall  of 
the  place.     That  is  certainly  one  way  of  bringing  about  the  nndesirable  result. 

I  should  say  that  the  greatest  drawback  to  the  future  i)rospei-ity  of  Uar 
1  larbor  lay  in  the  ever-present  menace  of  a  disastrous  conflagration.  A  city  of 
boards,  built  on  a  bare,  treeless  ])lain,  can  offer  litth^  resistance  to  the  spread  of 
the  flames. 

One  of  the  Desert  Mountains,  which  Champlain  first  brought  to  the  light  of 
history,  rises  back  of  the  village ;  yet  so  far  as  T  have  been  able  to  discover,  the 
name  of  Champlain  is  nowhere  commemorated  on  this  island.     This  is  Green 


Ml 


•A 


3 


*  [  ■ 

I 


I!     I 


.'satiw""-'" 


IN   AND  OUT  OF   »AU    HAKHOU. 


317 


Mountain,  and  the  view  h«?l(l  from  its  sunuait  easily  ranks  first  junonj,'  Har  Ikir- 
bor's  many  attrac^tions.  There  is  a  house  of  entertaiument  th«u'e  for  tlie  conven- 
ience of  toiirists  making,'  the;  ascent.  It  is  said  that  the  windows  of  this  house 
flash  out  their  "good  morning"  as  far  as  Helfast'-'  uiul  Montville,  fifty  and  sixty 
miles  away. 

Visitors  go  to  the  mountain  in  vehicles  as  far  as  Kagle  Lake,  a  beautiful 
little  piece  of  water  two  miles  h)ng,  lying  underneath  it  near  the  Sonu'sville 
road.  They  are  then  taken  across  in  a  steami)oat,  and  finish  the  ascent  l)y 
means  of  a  railway  sixty-three  hundred  feet  in  length.  There  is  ahso  a  car- 
riage road  to  the  sumniit.  Pedestrians  who  are  not  afraid  of  a  little  healthy 
exertion  find  little  difficulty  in  climbing  up  through  the  raviiu'  opening  a  wide 
gap  l)etween  Green  Mountain  and  Dry  Mountain. 

I>y  whichever  route  he  niay  have  arrived,  the  visitor  will  harilly  be  able  to 
keep  back  an  exclamation  of  de- 
lighted surprise  at  the  wonthuful 
and  memorable  panoranui  of  sea 
and  shore  which  he  is  looking  down 
upon,  perhajis  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life.  For  maiiy  a  year  will 
those  seas  and  islands  float  through 
his  memory  as  he  strives  to  recall 
the  scene  from  the  uu)untain  top. 
Long  will  he  trea.sure  up  the  image 
of  those  lovely  lakes  set  like  gems 
in  that  •'  silent  sea  of  pines.''  Never 
will  he  forget  how  suddenly,  as  if 
a  veil  had  dropped  from  his  eyes, 
a  new,  an  absorbing  sense  of  the 
sublimity  of  nature  came  over  him, 
or  the  ahnost  tender  realization 
that  he  had  been  lifted  up  in  his 
whole  being,  out  of  the  world  below,  almost  to  see  as  the  immortals  see. 

The  tribute  may  even  be  something  bizarre  withal,  though  sincere,  like  this 
one.  Once  upon  a  time  two  of  my  countrywomen  stood  here,  the  dumb  wit- 
nesses to  the  glories  of  the  sunset.  All  at  once  one  broke  out  with,  "  Oh,  isn't 
it  gorgeous  ?  isn't  it  grand  ?  "  The  other,  who  pressed  closely  to  her  coi.xpan- 
ion's  side  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy,  replied  with  decision,  "  Yes,  'Manda,  it  is  slick  I " 

Although  not  a  high  mountain,  this  one  is  so  commandingly  placed  that  a 
very  wide  arc  of  land  and  sea  is  thrown  open  to  the  eye.  You  do  not,  however, 
lose  the  sense  of  proportion  or  perspective  as  you  would  from  some  higher 
summit.  Under  favorable  conditions  everything  is  clearly  seen,  — the  swarm  of 
islands  advancing  out  into  the  vast  sparkling  plain  of  the  sea  from  the  grim 
bastions  of  the  coast  like  a  cloud  of  skirmishers,  the  far-off  islands  emerging 
like  monsters  rising  to  take  breath,  the  leagues  on  leagues  of  forest  rolling  back 


CLOCK,    SOMESVILI.E. 


;  S  1,1 
it 


]ih 


HV 


P 


318 


THE  PINE-TREE   COAST. 


their  billows  into  the  north.  Lonely  old  Katalulin  stands  there  at  the  edge 
like  a  spectre  whom  the  day  has  surprised.  Statuesque  Blue  Hill  guards  his 
lovely  bay.  The  Camden  Hills  send  greeting  t'r(jm  the  west;  the  Sclioodic 
Hills,  from  the  east.  Then  the  eye  drojjs  down  among  the  deep  gorges  of  tlie 
island,  rude  cradles  of  the  little  lakes  which  seem  turning  their  bright  faces  up 
to  tlicii'  sliaggy  guardians  to  be  kissed. 

Driving  is  by  all  odds  the  favorite  pastime,  one  might  almost  say  the 
favorite  oc(!upation,  at  ISar  Harbor,  and  it  lends  an  agreeable  diversity  to  the 
almost  numberless  excursions  by  water.  Indeed,  that  is  where  liar  Harbor,  or 
.Mount  Desert  rather,  claims  pre-eminence  over  all  other  seasliore  resorts  of  the 
Union.  One  may  drive  a  hundred  miles  without  evi'U  going  oft"  the  island  at 
all,  and  yet  never  be  more  than  twenty  or  thirty  from  his  starting-point.'' 

Well  do  I  remember  my  tirst  visit  to  Somesville  and  its  modest  imi,  where 
1  was  the  only  giu'st.  I  could  have  wished  there  had  l)eeu  another  to  divide 
with  me  the  attentions  of  the  landlord,  the  hostler,  and  the  errand-boy,  which  I 
found  so  end)arrassing. 

And  now  after  exhausting  the  day's  round  of  boating,  bathing,  driving, 
exploring  the  shores,  or  roaming  the  woods,  of  tennis,  bowling,  or  billiards,  rlie 
evening  brings  ba(;k  city  life  again  as  certainly  as  Hood  follows  eblj,  with  its 
teas,  visits,  hops,  and  rt(;e[)tions,  its  concerts,  readings,  and  private  theatricals 
for  the  young  people,  its  ipiiet  rubber  of  whist,  or  a  book  —  it  need  not  be  the 
latest  novel  uidess  one  likes  —  in  some  retired  nook  or  corner,  for  the  elders. 
This  double  life  suggests  the  Hgure  of  a  contribution-box  into  which  every  one 
is  exi)ected  to  drop  his  bright  idea,  and  for  whit'h  he  is  to  get  a  recipe  against 
blue-devils  out  of  the  common  fund.  It  follows  that  the  great  man  here  is  by 
no  means  the  senator,  the  general,  or  even  the  millionnaire ;  he  is  the  man  of 
original  ideas,  who  can  not  only  devise  new  schemes  for  killing  tinu'  every  d:iy 
and  hour,  but  put  them  in  smicessful  execution.  One  li.iS  only  to  look  in  at  some 
hotel  ])arlor  of  an  evening  to  see  what  zest  the  pursuit  of  out-door  pleasures  all 
at  once  imparts  to  all  those  in-door  amusements  which  seemeil  so  insipid  when 
they  were  one's  sole  resource  at  home. 


'  Till'  I'lircupiiU'S  arc  Har  Island,  Hurut,  Sheep,  Uouiul,  and  Ijnvj,  Porcupine,  the  latter 
hcinfi  the  (nUcrr-inst.  Kinmd  I'orcupinc  was  once  the  pi'opcrty  or  (icncral  Fremont.  At  a 
sale  by  the  state  it  was  knocked  down  for  -S^JT.oO.  It  is  now  claimed  by  William  and  Tobias 
l{oberts  under  a  title  from  Massaduisetts. 

-  Belfast  can  be  plainly  seen  from  the  siimnut  on  any  clear  day. 

^  The  Ovens  are  a  .series  of  shallow  caves  worn  into  the  rocky  hlid'f,  near  Sand  Point,  by 
liie  action  of  the  waves.  They  can  be  entered  only  at  low  tide,  and  from  the  beach  nndcr- 
neaili.  Not  far  from  the  Ovens  is  the  Cathedral,  a  detached  frai^ment  of  the  cliffs,  from 
which,  it  is  separated  by  an  opening  called  the  Via  Mala.  This  locality  is  about  six  miles 
fnini  Bar  Harbor.  Salisbury's  Cove,  a  .short  distance  west,  is  the  ]Militical  centre  of  EiUmi, 
the  township  in  which  Har  Harbor  is  situated.  Citizens  of  Bar  Harbor  have  to  go  there  to 
vote. 


-he  edge 
ards  his 
Sehuodic 
s  of  tlie 
faces  lip 

say  the 

.y  to  the 
irbor,  »)!• 
;s  of  the 
sland  at 
t/' 

n,  where 

;o  divide 

which  I 

dri  villi,', 
iinls.  the 
witli  its 
eatricals 
3t  lie  the 
e  ehU'i's. 
very  one 
B  against 
ere  is  by 
e  man  of 
very  day 
1  at  some 
sures  all 
)id  when 


the  liittfi- 
out.  At  a 
iid  Tobias 


roint.  by 

icli  aiulcr- 

K'lit'fs,  friiiii 

six  mill's 
■  of  Eden, 
o  there  to 


ri 


ft 


ii 


■J 


MOLNT    UKSEUT,    FKOM    SULLIVAN    HARBOR. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 


AROUND    FKKNCHMAN  (S    U.VV 


-  1 


WET. 


•  "  When  thou  haply  see'st 

Some  rare  noteworthy  object  in  thy  travels, 
Make  me  partaker  of  thy  happiness."  —  Shakespeare. 

K0S8IN(t  over  to  the  eastern  shore  of  the  Penobscot,  the 
country  begins  to  wear  a  different  look.  It  is  more  like 
what  one  would  exi)ect  to  see  when  passing  out  of  the 
borders  of  civilization.  Settlements  grow  less  frequent, 
villages  smaller,  routes  of  travel  more  primitive  and 
difficult,  and  in  many  ways  the  people  themselves  show 
a  more  marked  individuality  than  their  western  neighbors. 
They  seem,  indeed,  more  like  native  products  of  the  wild 
woods  and  rocks  among  which  they  have  been  born  and  reared.  There  are  long 
stretches  of  coast  where  the  improving  hand  of  man  has  scarcely  left  a  trace  of 
itself.  There  are  broad  tracts  of  untouched  forest  reaching  far  back  into  the 
shaggy  interior.  Clearing  these  away  seldom  means  opening  the  land  to  culti- 
vation, as  it  would  in  the  west,  but  oftener  exposes  the  barrenness  they  have 
hid  for  centuries ;  so  that  with  few  exceptions  the  axe  has  really  converted 
the  face  of  the  country  into  a  worse  wilderness  than  before. 

To  the  observing  or  thoughtful  traveller  all  this  is  a  revelation  for  which 
he  was  quite  unprei)ared.  He  now  sees  why  this  far  coast,  with  so  old  a  his- 
tory, shows  so  little  progress  ;  and  the  wonder  grows,  not  so  much  that  com- 
munities everywhere  fall  away  in  population,  as  that  men  could  be  found  willing 

88t 


6! 

V 
L 

'f 


f 


322 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


to  try  conclusions  with  such  an  iron  land,  where  a  bare  subsistence  is  the  rule 
and  the  attainment  of  wealth  the  rare  exception. 

But,  ou  the  other  hand,  this  state  of  things  is  by  no  means  unpleasing  to 
the  sentimental  traveller,  for  whom  every  indication  of  civilization  is  something 
of  a  disap])ointment.  He  wants  the  woods  let  grow,  the  deer  preserved,  the 
ponds  stocked  with  fish,  and  he  thinks  the  villages  (juite  large  enough  as  they 
are.  The  actual  residents,  strangely  enough,  look  upon  the  summer  resident  as 
a  means  to  that  development  which  the  penury  of  natural  resources  has  denied 
them. 

To  the  established  prestige  of  Mount  Desert  the  rise  of  the  flourishing 
colonies  at  Lamoiue,  Sullivan,  Sorrento,  and  Winter  Harbor  is  luidoubtedly 
owing. 

Broadly  speaking,  Lamoiue- occupies  the  east  half  of  that  peninsular  ])art 
of  the   mainland  from  which  Mount  Desert  is   divided  by  the  narrow  strait 


A    SCNNY    rOlXT   AT    LAMOIXK. 


joining  the  waters  of  Blue  Hill  Bay  with  those  of  Frenclnnan's  Bay.  Tlie 
Lamoine  peninsula  roughly  resembles  an  eagle  hovering  with  outsi)read  wings 
and  uplifted  beak  on  the  inner  shore  of  Frenclnnan's  Bay,  ffordan's  River  being 
under  one  wing,  and  Skilling's  Bay  under  the  other.  Two  deep  coves  form  the 
beak,  which  is  turned  toward  Frenchman's  Bay. 

The  first  settlers  here  came  from  liiddi'ford,  ^Nlaine,  to  Old  I'oint  in  1774. 
There  wert>  also  various  French  settlers,  or  owners,  who  held  their  land  by 
purchase  from  Madame  de  Gregoire  of  Mount  Desert,  and  from  one  of  wht)m 
the  township  takes  its  name  ;  but  most  of  them  vanished  away  without  leaving 
more  distinct  traces  of  their  sojourn. 

The  position  of  Lamoine  renders  that  shore  of  Mount  Desert  extending 
between  the  ()v(Mis  ;ind  the  Narnnvs  even  more  accessible  here  than  from  Bar 
Harbor  itself,  while  much  of  the  interior  of  the  island  nuiy  be  as  readily 
visited  from  Lamoine  as  from  most  of  the  island  resorts  proper. 

Just  across  Skilling's  Bay,  Hancock  Point''  is  pushed  down  Frenchman's 
Bay  toward  Bar  Harl)or.     This  pretty  [)eninsula  is  the  extreme  limit  of  railway 


AROUND   FRENX'ILMAN'S   BAY. 


323 


Tlie 


communication  with  the  out-coast  at  this  time.  Krom  this  point,  passengers 
reach  Bar  Harbor  refreshed  by  a  sail  of  eiglit  miles  made  in  a  swift  and  com- 
fortable steamer,  no  less  than  by  the  extpiisite  views  of  the  island,  shores,  and 
mountains  which  are  impressively  introduced. 

Crossing  tide-water  again,  we  ne.xt  set  foot  on  another  of  those  long  ])enin- 
sulas  that  everywhere  (dbow  their  way  out  from  the  mainland  as  if  to  obtain 
the  best  views  of  ocean  and  mountains. 

We  are  now  at  the  very  head  of  Frenchman's  Bay,  in  the  little  village  and 
coming  resort  at  Sullivan  Harbor.* 

The  transition  from  the  bustle  of  Bar  Harbor  is  i)erhai)S  the  first  thing 
noticed  here,  or  rather,  one  has  not  been  fully  aware  how  much  the  activity  of 


11 


HITS    OF    SIl.LIVAX    IIAKHOR. 


Bar  Harbor  is  like  that  of  any  other  city,  or  how  easily  he  has  become  part  of 
it,  until  one  has  landed  at  some  such  (piiet  and  secluded  nook  as  Sullivan. 

Upon  landing,  I  saw  a  strip  of  gravel  beach  bordered  by  grassy  b:inks,  back 
of  which  the  village  is  seated.  Instead  of  a  heavy  sea  pounding  it.  tlie  waves 
rip])led  gently  up  the  strand,  diffusing  a  feeling  of  drowsiness  to  which  the 
warm  breeze  blown  off  the  pines  added  its  narcotic  effect.  A  little  way  off- 
shore, in  the  tideway,  which  is  here  swift  and  strong,  the  black  water  was  over- 


is  ' 


II  ' 


■:"l! 


:.! 


'  I 


■i 


i! 


324 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


spread  with  a  network  of  foam  as  like  lace  worn  upon  velvet  as  anything  could 
be,  while  fleeces  of  spume  spun  round  in  the  eddies  like  so  many  Portuguese 
men-of-war  setting  out  for  a  warmer  clime. 

From  the  narrow  gorge  above  came  the  roar  of  falling  water.  This  passage 
leads  into  Taunton  Bay,  a  hue  basin  which  extends  uj)  several  miles  farther 
inland ;  so  that  every  tide  tills  it  full  with  the  clearest  sea-water.  But  when 
the  tide  turns,  the  water  (sannot  escape  from  this  inner  basin,  through  its  con- 
fined outlet,  as  rapidly  as  it  falls  in  the  outer  bay.  It  is  thus  forced  out  through 
the  Narrows,  by  the  pressure  behind  it.  making  a  fall  of  ten  feet  in  its  descent 
to  the  basin  l)elow,  and  at  the  same  time  churning  itself  into  suds  against  the 
sharp  rocks  as  it  goes.  The  roar  of  this  fall  was  the  only  sound  that  broke  the 
stillness,  during  my  stay  at  Sullivan,  except  the  occasional  zip  of  a  grasshopper. 
The  local  name  of  Falls  Village  is,  therefore,  easily  traced. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  have  a  more  delightful  companion  for  one's 
thoughts  than  tlu^  long  vista  of  island-studded  water,  over  which  the  Mount 
Desert  range  lifts  itself  in  the  distance.  It  is  a  present  delight  and  unfading 
memory.  Xowhere  do  their  rugged  lines  stand  out  more  sharp  or  distinct  than 
from  here.  The  wide  cleft  of  Somes'  Sound,  the  rotund  bulk  of  Green  Moun- 
tain, the  deep  hollow  carved  out  between  that  mountain  and  Newport,  are  all 
open  to  the  play  of  light  and  shade,  now  in  the  dazzling  sunrise  glow,  or  again 
in  the  black  wrath  of  tlie  storm.  From  the  piazza  of  the  "Waukeag  House  one 
catches  the  faint  glimmer  of  Bar  Harbor  casements,  and  the  white  flash  of  sails 
against  the  mountain  sides.  And  then  the  variegated  spots  of  color  peeping 
out  among  the  sombre  greenery,  as  one  turns  this  way  or  that,  make  little  eye- 
catching points  of  rare  effectiveness  as  regards  the  whole  pictiire. 

From  the  harbor  shore  the  ground  slopes  back  easily  to  where  it  meets  the 
forest.  Behind  this  lies  a  wilderness  of  Avoods,  mountains,  and  lakes,  as  wild 
and  romantic  as  the  mivisited  regions  of  the  White  Mountains  or  Adiroudacks. 
And  back  of  this  again  a  belt  of  hairy-breasted  hills  swings  round  to  meet  the 
Schoodic  chain,  of  which  these  hills  are  the  outworks.  Avenues  and  drives 
lead  to  the  most  commanding  outlooks,  that  from  the  Moorish  pavilion  at 
Ossipee  Hill,  four  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  disclosing  all  this  mass  of  tree- 
tops,  rising  hills,  and  sunken  lakes  beneath. 

Hard  by  this  airy  perch,  and  extending  out  between  two  arms  of  the  bay, 
which  almost  insulate  it  from  the  mainland,  is  the  promontory  formerly  known 
as  W.aukeag  Neck,  but  more  recently  as  Sorrento.  Sorrento  is  the  name  of  a 
town  in  Italy.  Every  one  who  goes  to  Naples  is  supposed  to  visit  Sorrento ; 
but  to  visit  Sorrento  it  is  no  longer  necessary  to  go  to  Naples. 

This  is  another  attempt  to  realize  that  Happy  Valley  of  Rasselas,  the  ideal 
resort.  Formerly  it  merely  grew  up ;  now  it  has  become  an  affair  of  capital,  — 
of  capital  intelligently  directed  to  bring  about  a  union  of  the  best  conditions  of 
urban  and  suburban  life,  minus  their  drawbacks  or  restraints. 

A  truly  charming  spot  is  this  Sorrento,  with  its  cordon  of  green  islands 
thrown  out  before  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  a  snug  little  road,  in  which  small 


AltOUNI)   FKENCIIMAN'S   BAV. 


325 


yachts  or  large  run  no  risk  of  being  swept  away  from  their  moorings,  blow 
high,  blow  low.''  Then  the  peninsula  itself  is  pushed  far  down  and  out  into 
the  bay  toward  Blount  Desert,  so  as  to  hold  that  peerless  island  from  the  truest 
point  of  perspective,  perhaps,  for  a  thoroughly  satisfa(!tory  survey.  It  follows 
that  aesthetic  residents  of  Bar  Harbor  have  to  conu^  over  to  Sorrento  in  order 
to  see  what  their  own  island  looks  like,  before  they  can  pretend  to  know  how 
really  beautiful  it  is. 

Still  lower  down  the  bay  —  for  we  are  slowly  working  our  way  out  to  sea 
again  —  we  come  to  Winter  Harbor,  in  Gouldsborough,  where  there  is  a  light- 
house at  the  entrance  to  show  us  the  way  in.  This  is  another  candidate  for 
public  patronage.  It  should  not  be  confoinided,  however,  with  the  ancient 
settlement  at  the  mouth  of  the  Saco,  where  we  have  already  spent  some  hours. 
This  Winter  Harbor  lies  across  the  bay  from  Bar  Harbor,  with  which  it  has 
communication  by  a  steam  ferry. 

AVhen  Schoodic  Point "  is  doubled,  we  shall  get  sight  of  I'etit  Alanan  Light, 
standing  iip  gray  and  tall  on  its  rock  at  the 
eastern  limit  of  Frenchman's  Bay,  to  which 
it  is  the  guide  and  beacon. 

But  before  quitting  this  bay  it  woidd  be 
an  unpardonable  omission  not  to  say  a  word 
or  two  about  its  lone  sentinel  and  farthest 
outpost,  its  rock  of  danger,  in  fact.  Mount 
Desert  Rock  is  the  farthest  land  on  which 
a  New  England  coast  lighthouse  shows  its 
warning  "light  in  the  window."  Its  gray 
tower  is  too  distant  to  be  seen  from  the  island, 
as  six  or  seven  leagues  of  water  roll  between; 
but  I  warrant  that  not  a  few  of  my  readers 
have  seen  it  by  night  or  by  day,  —  a  strange 
sight,  indeed,  in  a  strange  place  !  —  rising 
above  the  waves  like  the  last  monument  of 
some  buried  city  of  antediluvian  times. 

Here  now  is  a  spot  where  the  terrors,  the  solitude,  of  ocean  might  well  appall 
the  stoutest  heart.  There  is  no  need  to  have  recourse  to  rhetorical  metaphors. 
What  is  it  but  a  prison,  a  walled-up  dungeon,  a  horrible  solitude  ?  A  bare  rock, 
drenched  by  every  gale,  holds  the  light-tower  high  above  the  waves.  Drenched, 
indeed!  There  is  an  enormous  bowlder  lodged  on  that  rock  which  the  power  of 
the  sea,  during  some  terrific  storm,  has  split  as  cleanly  as  if  it  had  b^en  done 
with  a  quarryman's  hammer  and  wedge.  Not  only  has  it  done  this,  but  the 
ponderous  fragments  have  been  forced  fifty  feet  apart  by  the  resistless  power 
of  the  waves.  How  did  this  happen  ?  Did  the  toppling  breaker  throw  its  tons 
of  water  upon  the  rock  and  crush  it  by  sheer  weight  ?  By  no  means  ;  the  rock 
was  first  lifted  up  clear  of  its  bed,  and  then  brought  down  again  with  such  force 


PETIT    MANAN    LIGHT. 


i.iiiii 


. 


I. 


I 


wn   ■ 

1 
'  1 

'■ 
■1 

:  :|! 

i  '' 
i 

i      .: 
■   .  ! 

I 


mf 


;tr 


Hi 


■<\'\ 


6'JiJ 


THE   riMi-rilliE  COAST. 


lis  to  crack  it  apart  as  easily  as  a  schoolboy  would  crack  a  ripe  cocoanut  by 
tliugiug  it  clown  upon  the  paveineut. 

There  is  another  bowlder  that  looks  as  if  it  might  dety  the  power  of  steam 
to  stir  it  a  hair's  breadth.  Its  great  size  and  enormous  weight  rend(!r  it  to  all 
intents  a  part  of  the  isle  on  which  it  rests.  However  it  may  have  come  there, 
to  all  api)earances  it  is  likidy  to  remain  till  doomsday,  one  would  say.  So, 
indeed,  it  would  seem.  Yet  stay  a  little.  Upon  stooping  down,  Ave  discover  to 
our  surprise  several  pieces  of  driftwood  that  have  beciome  tightly  wedged  under- 
neath the  huge  mass,  —  "  dunnaged  u}),"  as  the  keeper  described  it  to  me. 

On  one  of  those  mild  spring-like  December  days  when  AVintcr  relaxes  his 
grip  only  to  take  a  firmer  hold,  I  step])ed  again  on  the  desertiul  wharf  at  Bar 
Harbor.  Could  it  be  the  same  phuie  I  had  seen  all  alive  with  jjcople  only  a 
few  short  weeks  before  ?  One  lank  mail-pouch  was  fiung  out  after  me.  One 
bareheaded  boy  picked  it  w})  and  started  off  with  it  u[)  the  absolutely  liftdess 
street.  I  followed  this  lad  to  the  one  small  inn,  that  furnished  ample  accom- 
modations, however,  for  all  trav- 
ellers. Not  a  shop  was  open,  not 
a  creature  stirring  in  all  that  long 
line  of  street. 

It  was  a  wild  night.  Nothing 
could  approach  the  island  in  the 
morning,  jis  the  gale  drove  such  a 
sea  before  it  tliat  one  continuous 
roar  went  nj)  all  around  the  shores. 
On  land  and  sea  everything  was 
in  commotion.  Now  and  then  some 
mountain  peak  would  struggle  n\) 
through  the  clouds  that  rolled  over 
them  in  great  billows,  like  waves  to 
the  strand,  showering  down  volleys  of  hail  and  sleet  in  their  track.  This  silent 
combat  in  the  heavens  was  in  marked  contrast  with  the  loud  cannonade  of  the 
surf  below. 

When  the  clouds  lifted  a  little,  Green  Mountain  had  a  white  tablecloth 
spread  out  on  its  summit.  I  had  entertained  the  idea  of  climbing  this  moun- 
tain this  very  day  and  hour;  but,  certes,  it  was  no  day  for  a  picnic,  and  the 
warfare  of  the  storm  was  far  more  suggestive  of  the  poetry  of  Ossian  than  the 
poetry  of  Whittier. 

By  one  of  those  sudden  shiftings  whioh  has  made  the  New  England  climate 
the  subject  of  a  treatise  from  that  eminent  philosopher,  Mark  Twain,  the  wind 
veered  round  from  northeast  to  northwest,  knocking  down  the  sea,  freezing  the 
sloppy  streets  to  the  hardness  of  stone,  and  incrusting  everything  with  a  treach- 
erous rime  which  tripped  up  the  unwary  pedestrian's  heels  in  a  twinkling.  The 
stanch  little  Sebenoa,  however,  resolutely  steamed  out  into  the  tossing  bay,  in 
the  teeth  of  the  gale,  now  wallowing  deep  in  the  trough,  now  getting  a  stag- 


TIIK    WHAUK    IN    PKCEMHEK. 


AROUND    FKKNCIIMAN'S    BAY. 


.•{1,'7 


gcring  blow  right  iii  the  eyes  as  she  rose  out  of  it,  whicth  sent  the  frozen  spray 
Hying  higli  over  her  funnel,  yet  always  forging  alu'ad  with  a  hoiKski|Kin(l- 
junip-like  motion,  as  if  all  this  i)()un(ling  did  but  put  lu'r  on  her  mettle.  A 
good  sea-boat  that,  even  if  half  tlu^  voyage  to  Sorrento  did  seem  to  be  made 
under  water. 

Out  in  the  oiling  we  saw  the  revenue  eutter  towing  a  disabled  (H)aster  into 
])ort.  This  eommon  enough  ineideut  proved  the  open  ttesanw  to  tlie  silenee  pre- 
vailing iimong  those  of  us  who  preferred  fresh  air  to  that  of  the  stuify  cabin 
l)elow.  The  talk  instantly  fell  upon  shipwreeks  and  disasters  at  sea.  1  took 
down  from  the  lijis  of  an  eye-witness  of  what  he  related,  the  following  aeeount 
of  how  a  shi[)  was  saved,  so  remarkably  illustrating  the  aseendeney  of  a  supe- 
rior mind  in  wellnigh  desperate  eireumstanoes,  that  I  eannot  refrain  from  briefly 
repeating  it  here. 

During  her  voyage  home  from  Singapore  the  deeply  laden  sliij)  had  met 
with  nothing  but  gale  after  gale,  from  the  effects  of  which  she  had  become  so 
badly  strained  as  to 
make  a  resort  to  the 
pumps  the  only  nu'ans 
left  of  keeping  her 
afloat.  The  pumi)S  were 
therefore  rigged,  and 
all  hands  set  to  pump- 
ing. Meanwhile  the 
ship's  course  was  laid 
for  the  nearest  land, 
supposed  to  be  about 
four  hundred  miles 
distant.  After  nuuiy 
hours  of  hard  labor, 
disheartened  at  finding 
that  all  th!  y  could  do 
wcmld  barely  keep  the  leak  from  gaining  on  them,  the  crew,  to  a  num,  refused 
to  work  p>  the  pumps  longer.  In  vain  the  captain  commanded,  imph,  "d  them 
to  return  to  their  duty  as  the  one  hope  of  saving  uU  their  lives.  Too  panic- 
struck  to  care  for  either  orders  or  entreaties,  the  men  sulleidy  refused  to  stir. 
Seeing  his  authority  was  at  an  end  if  the  creweontintu'd  in  this  state  of  fatuity, 
yet  fully  realizing  the  straits  to  which  he  and  they  would  be  redu(;ed  in  a  few 
hours  more  at  farthest,  the  captain  put  his  trumju't  to  his  lips  and  gave  the 
unheard-of  order  to  unship  the  brakes  and  draw  the  boxes  from  the  pumps. 
The  men  mechanically  and  wonderingly  obeyed ;  but  their  astonishment  was 
turned  to  dismay  when  they  saw  the  (taptain  fling  over  the  ship's  side,  into  the 
sea,  the  implements  on  which  he  had  but  just  now  asserted  that  all  their  lives 
depended. 

"Now,  my  men,"  shouted  the  aroused  commander,  "you  refuse  to  pump,  do 


wnisTLiNCr-itiroY,   sniooKic  i'oint. 


''  i 


'? 


M 


Til 

4 


32S 


TlIK    IMNK-riiKK   COAST. 


you  '!  So  l)(^  it,  th(!ii ;  w*;  will  all  ^o  ilowii  tctpttlKir."  liy  onr  ol'  those  sutlilt'ii 
ntvulsioiis  ot  Iffdiiig  which  a  lol'ty  miml  .sointftiiiifs  iiispin-M,  tht!  dcsirn  tor  lilV 
ntturiKMl  UH  Hooii  iis  tht;  last  (chance  ot  saviii}^  it  S(!(;in<Ml  <lisa|)|)(;ariiig  Ixil'oii' 
thcMi"  «!y«fH;  and  tlutuj^h  they  had  just  flatly  rcl'iisc'd  t»»  work  the  |iiiiii|is,  the 
(;nnv,  with  one  voice,  now  licsou^'ht  the  ca|)taiii  to  ^ivc  his  orders,  declaring' 
that  they  would  f^'o  down,  it  tluty  must,  lik«'  men.  All  hands  were  instantly  set 
to  work  hailin^^.  "No  words,"  said  tim  captain  at't(!rward,  "  iian  he^in  to  de- 
scrilxf  th((  way  in  which  the  ni(!n  worked  to  keep  down  the  leak."  liy  super- 
human exertions,  tho  sinking  ship  was  kept  afloat  until  the  |.;ahf  abatc'd,  when 
the  intrepid  mast(M'  had  tlu*  inexpressihle  satisfaction  of  takin^(  his  ship,  with 
her  valuahle  car},'o,  sai'ely  into  port. 

Our  humane  societies  award  medals  I'or  the  saving,'  of  a  sinj^le  Hie.  Why 
should  then^  not  he  a  national  (l(;(!oration  I'or  the  h(;roism  that  pr(\s(!rv(!H  a  hun- 
dred lives  ? 


1^ 


St 


>  This  iiiuiic  was  orifjinally  nivcii  Intlic  Hay  (if  Kumly,  in  n'liiciiiliraiKMMif  Micadvcntuni  of 
Nicidas  Auliry,  a  piicsl,  itf  l)c  .Munis'  (•oinpiiiiy,  wliu  imiiic  iirar  sliirviii^;  ludfatli,  wliili^  iosl,  in 
Ui«  woixIh,  licfon;  Ills  ciiiiipanionH  found  liiin.      The  vcshcI  was  tlicn  at  Saint.  .Mary's  May,  N.S. 

'■*  liainoinc  fornicd  part  of  'I'l'cMlon  until  set,  off  in  IM7n.  'I'lif  lii'st  settlers  were  Isaac 
<iilpalri(t  and  his  son-in-law,  ICdwanl  Hcrry.  'I'lic  l-rcnrh  faniilics  of  Dcs  Isle  and  l)t^  Lailtrc 
found  lioinc'H  here.     rrofcHsor  J.  ('.  Wintcaiirilhain  has  written  an  account  of  Lanioiiie. 

"The  forty-two  miles  of  railway  connecting  Hancock  I'oint  with  Han^or  and  the  rail- 
way system  of  New  I'ji^land  should  Ixt  iMnint.ed  anion;;  the  attractions  of  .Mount  Desert,  since 
no  similar  example  of  natural  sitenery  is  known  on  this  side  of  tin;  Alle^^hanics.  h'or  many 
inilcH  tiic  route  passes  throii^^h  a  re^^ion  in  which  it  seems  to  hrivc  rained  stones,  many  of 
wliicli  are  as  hir^c  as  an  ordinary  teneiniint,  —  so  lar;;e,  indeed,  that  the  cn^^ineers  were  (Com- 
pelled to  carry  the  line  around  them.  A  straight  road  was  impraicticahle.  Nothing;  ;;rows 
there  excM'pt  a  few  si(ckly  hircihcs.  It  is  without  doubt  tlic  tra<!k  of  an  old  f^lacier ;  such  weird 
sif^hts  conuuonly  show  l,hems(!lv<!S  from  the  tops  of  our  mountains  only. 

*  Sullivan,  fornu'riy  New  IJristol,  was  onci  of  twelve  townships  laid  out  hiM.wecn  the 
IVnob.scot  and  Saint  Croix  in  1702.  Six  were  cast  and  six  west  of  l!nion  liivcr,  wliicli  derived 
its  nanu!  from  that  cii'cumstance.  Sullivan  was  .No.  2  of  the  eastern  ;;roup.  It  was  incor- 
porated in  I7HU.  Durin;;  the  f(!vcr  for  silver- miniu};  which  raj^cil  ihrou;;hout  Kastcrn  .Maine  a 
dozen  years  af^o  several  shafts  were  oponod  at  Sullivan,  into  which  the  companies  put  more 
silver  than  they  '"'"k  <•"'•  'I'l'cy  havis  either  l)een  abandoned  or  tilled  up.  The  first  settUTs 
came  from  York,  Maine.  IJesidcs  David  Hean,  there  were  Daniel  Sullivan,  .losiah  and  I'aul 
Simpson,  Nathaniel  I'reblc,  and  otlmrs.  Tlu^y  had  increased  to  forty  families  when  tht;  Kiwo- 
lutiou  brok(!  out,  but  wcrt-  reduced  a^^ain  to  twenty  by  the  harassing;  raids  to  which  their  isola- 
tion (!Xi)osed  them.  Thus,  in  February,  17HI,  a  Hritish  armed  vessel  from  (^astinc  burnt 
Milan's  and  Sullivan's  hou.ses,  turnin;;  the  inmates  out  to  the  inclemency  of  the  season,  tiuite 
recently  a  (iannon-ball  was  duj;  up  at  Sorrento,  supp(»sed  to  lie  a  relic  of  tliis  affair. 

'  These  islands  form  i)art  of  the  chain  stretchiuf^  alon^  the  east  short;  of  this  bay,  all  the 
way  from  Schoodic  I'oint  to  Sullivan.  Irouboiuid,  the  larj^est,  ranges  with  tlu;  I'orcuiiiues, 
and  with  tlK^ui  serves  to  break  off  the  force  of  southerly  gales  from  the  bay.  Jordan  Island  is 
next,  and  Stave  I.sland  next,  north  of  Ironbound.  Then  (Jalf,  Preble's,  and  Dram  islands 
swing  off  acro.sH  Flandtus'  Hay,  thus  making  the  harbor  of  Sorrento.  Mean's  Island  lies  out 
between  Sorrento  and  Hancock  I'oint.  Seward's  is  east  of  Sorrento,  in  Flanders'  Hay.  Sor- 
rento is  thus  well  tiankcd  on  all  sides  by  islantls. 

*  Schoodic  I'oint  has  a  whistling-buoy,  placed  to  mark  a  dangerous  reef  that  makes  out 
from  it. 


A  FIHIIKKMAN'h    I'OTTAUU, 


CHAITKK    XXIV. 


KKOM    rKTIT    MANAN     Id    MArlllAS,   cirKKIt,   AMi    (il'(tl>l)V    IlKAU. 


"  VViivr  iiflcr  wiivc 
Hicaks  1)11  llid  rucks,  which,  slfrii  iuiil  K>'ii.V, 
Slioiilchi'  the  bioktii  liilc  away."  —  Willi  iii-:ii. 

AI'-'I'KIl  ]),'i.s.siiip;  hoyftiid  t,ln'  limits  of  l''i('iicliiii:iii',s  iJiiy,  tlicrc  uro  altont 
lolly  miles  ol'  coast  as  yt't  scarct'ly  known  to  tin;  va(;atioi»  nimlilcr.  II 
|iossil)lf',  it  is  more  <UH'i)ly  eatt'ii  into  by  Iviys  and  indents,  more  and  more  cut 
lip  l)y  oiittlowiiif^  streams,  worsts  ami  worse  tattered  and  torn  ahoiit  tlie  ed},'es, 
than  the  re^don  throii^^li  wliiidi  W(^  liave  just  come.  No  less  than  I'oiir  larj,'e 
hays  strike  holdly  up  into  the  laml,  and  one  of  them  receives  the  waters  ol'  two 
considerable  rivers.'  Beyond  these,  again,  Machiiis  Hay  performs  a  like  otiirv 
I'or  the  watershed  oi  a  lorested  region  lying  behind  it,  which  is  last  being 
stripped  of  its  timber  ior  tin;  supplying  of  domestic,  or  foreign  markets. 

Petit  Maiian  is  an  island  of  about  twenty-five  acres,  prolonging  I'etit  Manan 
Point,  between  whi(di  and  the  island  itself  a  bar  extends.  Pigeon  Hill  is  the 
prominent  feature  of  the  shore-line  hen-,  dee])ly  imlented  as  it  is  by  numerous 
cov(!S,  one  of  which  nearly  severs  the  pointed  b;i(;kbone  of  granite,  called  Petit 
Manan  I'oint,  from  this  hill  at  its  base.  The  portagis  —  of  .some  forty  rods 
a(!ro.ss  —  retains  its  old  name  of  the  Carrying  Phuie,  and  the  cove  forming  it 
that  of  Carrying  Phuu!  Cove.  Hy  availing  themselves  of  this  short  cut,  the 
red  Indians  w<'r(!  saved  a  long,  tedious,  and  .sometimes  perilous  tW'tonr  when 
journeying  to  and  fro  on  their  warlike  expeditions.  Many  a  dark  tile  of 
savages  has  (M-ossed  here,  bearing  their  bindi  canoes  on  their  shoulders,  and 
many  a  noble  buck  has  been  striu^k  in  the  mMghboring  woods. 

829 


I 
i' 

% 


«iii 


:i'M) 


THK    PINK-THKK   TOAST. 


Tlic  eastern  shore  of  Petit  Maiiaii  Point,  lookiiij,'  toward  Freiicliniiiirs  P»ay. 
is  now  thrown  open  to  suninier  rcsiih'iits  and  suninier  visitors;  so  that  in  the 
near  lutiire  we  nia}"  expect  it  to  become  (piite  as  well  known  as  the  older 
resorts,  especially  as  it  is  only  a  dozen  miles  from  Mount  I)»'sert;  thoui^h,  to  my 
nund,  the  wise  ones  are  those  who  skim  oit'  the  cream  of  a  jiliice  hei'orc  the 
crowd  conies  in  with  its  stall"  of  surveyors,  architects,  landscape-j^iirdeners,  and 
innovators  of  all  sorts,  to  show  iis  that,  if  nature  defies  art,  art  (piite  as  often 
defies  n;iture. 

Anionj,'  the  villai,'cs  that  occasionally  dot  the  ,<,'reen  hillsides  of  this  intermi- 
nable series  of  points  ;ind  li:iys  —  piiticnt  w;iiti'is  for  the  wave  of  a  coiidnLC  pros- 


it 'i 


,|!J 


.,      I 


LACK. 


perity  to  make  itself  .s  that  little   one  of  .ronesjiort,  lyinj;  uj)  behind 

MoosealxH",  Keach.     Let  u.-.  look  in  at  J()nes])ort. 

We  find  a  sober,  jdoddint,',  undemonstrative  jK'ople,  engaged  in  fishing,  ship- 
building, lobster-canning,  and  the  like  humdrum  occupati<ms.  A  more  unprom- 
ising soil  to  nourish  delusions  in  one  could  scarce  imagine.  Yet  it  was  from 
this  very  place,  and  under  this  same  cold  sky  of  Maine,  that  a  colony  of  relig- 
ious enthusiasts,  whose  zeal  outran  their  worldly  wisdom,  set  out  for  the  Holy 
Land,  some  twenty-five  years  ago.  ^\ith  the  avowed  object  of  raising  np  a  new 
Palestine  on  the  decrepit  civilization  of  the  benighted  Moslem.  Tln'y  were  to 
be  the  vanguard  of  a  reflux  mo^-ement  toward  the  hoary  East.     These  people 


mm 


iiy. 
th» 


(llT 


my 
Ml.' 
iiid 
Wn 


iiii- 


ros- 


9>il 


lUlll 


liip- 
■oui- 
I'om 

[oly 
lunv 
»'  to 


)i)le 


^1 


'  -111 


c* 


FROM    PETIT   MANAN  TO  MACIIIAS. 


>.>o 


were  not  driven  to  do  this,  as  the  Latter-Day  Saints  were  in  founding  I'tah,  hut 
embraced  their  vohintary  exile  in  the  seli'-sacritieiug  sjjirit  of  a  new-horn  zeal. 

A  roving  itinerant  had  come  among  them,  preaching  this  new  crusatle.  He 
l)ossessed  the  dangerous  gift  of  natural  elo(]uen('(',  seemingly  without  judgment 
or  practical  wisdom  to  give  it  useful  direction.  When  pushed  for  an  ex])la- 
nation  of  how  this  or  that  thing  was  to  be  doiu»,  by  some  of  the  more  cautious 
ones,  he  would  tell  them  "that  the  Lord  would  provide,  and  to  throw  them- 
selves upon  the  Lord."  To  make  a  long  story  short,  he  induced  his  converts 
to  sell  their  household  goods,  houses,  and  lands,  in  order  to  carry  out  this 
visionary  scheme  of  his;  and  with  the  means  thus  obtained,  the  colony  of 
frones])ort  Kedemptionists  put  to  sea,  and  in  due  season  landed  at  Jaffa,  the  port 
of  Jerusalem. 

Here  the  scales  fell  from  their  eyes.  They  found  Palestine  anything  but  a 
land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey.     Laws,  manners,  customs,  language,  — every- 


SAND   COVE,    TETIT    MANAN. 


thing,  in  short, — were  all  new  and  strange,  all  so  many  stumbling-blocks  in  their 
path.  Nobody  did  any  other  work  except  to  beg.  The  '•  unspeakable  Turk "' 
looked  upon  them  with  lofty  disdain.  TJ  e  leader  whom  they  had  so  blindly 
followed  proved  not  only  a  false  prophet,  but  untrustworthy  guide,  and  his 
promises  a  snare  and  a  delusion.  Hecrimination  and  distrust  soon  followed. 
Too  lat«'  they  found  they  had  come  on  a  fool's  errand.  Hut  even  here  the  Yan- 
kee character  asserted  itself.  One  enterprising  fellow  started  a  stage-line  from 
Jaffa  to  Jerusalem,  thus  distancing  the  patient  camel  and  the  nu'thodical  ass  of 
old  renown.  The  colony  was,  however,  broken  up,  as  a  body,  and  its  visionary 
projects  abandoned  to  the  necessities  of  the  hour.  Without  t'mploynu'ut  or 
money,  the  meml)ers  soon  fell  into  destitution,  from  which  they  were  rescued 
by  the  intervention  of  our  resident  otticials,  who  procured  them  transportation 


f 


.•j;u 


TIIK    IMNK-TUKK    COAS'I" 


1 


I, 


hiU'k  to  tln'ir  native  land,  wlicrt'  tlit-y  linally  arrived,  something  wiser  il'  not 
better,  it  is  to  l>e  hoped,  than  \vh<'n  they  h'l't  it. 

iMaehias-  eonies  into  the  history  of  tlie  coast  of  Main(^  at  a  (juite  c^arly  day  ; 
jnst  how  early  no  on(>  can  say;  yet  the  indications  we  find  pointing;  in  tliiit 
direction  do  not,  so  far,  resolve  themselves  into  certainties.  That  t!i(!  l"'reiicli 
freipieiited  it  more  or  less  from  their  first  (iomin;,,'  into  these  waters  is  as  ^^ood 
iis  settled  with  those  who  have  taken  the  troidtle  to  look  into  the  matter, 
although  wi!  do  not  Hnd  tanj^ihle  traces  of  their  visits,  until  our  Kuj^lish  cliioiii- 
(des  bej^in.  The  first  jtart  <)f  the  history  is  torn  out  of  the  liook  ;  and  we  nnist 
therefore  be.i,dn  with  the  fra;^m(!nt  left  us. 

It  appears  that  in  disre,t,'ard  of  tlitr  treaty  of  \iV.'>-,  by  which  Acatlia  reverteil 
to  the   French,  those   free-tradt    s  in  the  broad  sense,   Isaac  Allerton,  of  I'ly- 


ALONG    8I10KK. 


mouth,  and  Ri(diard  Vines,  of  Sa(uj,  —  two  of  the  more  distinj^ir.sluul  minor  char- 
acters of  the  timi',  whose  anteccnlents  we  know  somiithing  of  alriiady,  —  made  an 
ill-advised  attempt  to  establish  a  tra<le  with  the  Indians  of  this  bay  as  early  as 
the  year  l(>.'{.'i.  La  Tour,  of  Saint  .lohn,  ])roniptly  came  and  put  them  «iut  by 
force.-'  .Allerton  and  Vines  lost  heavily  by  the  v»Miture,  and  the  I'ilj^rims,  with 
whom  Allerton  had  been  jdayinj?  fast  and  loose,  could  not  (U)ncc!al  their  satis- 
faction at  the  summary  way  in  which  La  Tour  had  ousted  their  once  trusted 
as.sociate.  There  is  nothing;  to  show  where  this  short-livcMl  tradini^-house 
st<»od.  — a  mer«>  wii^wam  of  brush  and  bark,  perhaps,  — thouf^h  conjecture  locates 
it  somewhere  ai)out  ^lachiasport. 


KiioM  iM-yrrr  manan   to  viACiiiAs. 


11*1  *^ 


This  vill;ifif»*  of  Miurhiiusport  first  liuj^'s  tlui  loot  of  a  iiill,  and  then  makrs  a 
(lash  up  the.  stct'])  ascent  to  scatter  itstilf  about  the  hrow,  like  a  column  of 
skirmishers  brok(Mi  and  haltin<^  to  take*  l)rcath.  From  this  coinmandinj^  height, 
th(!  meeting-house,  with  its  graveyard  sloping  oil"  heiiind  it,  looks  up  and  down 
the  farthest  reaches  of  the  traiupiil  hay,  and  tlui  wliole  scene,  as  I  saw  it  lying 
out  belong  me,  at  the  cdose  of  a  summer's  day,  was  ciu-tainly  as  sweet  and  rest- 
ful a  pict\irc  as  mind  coidd  con<t(Mve  or  heart  desire. 

in  the  cool  of  tlu;  evening,  when  the  air  was  heavy  with  the  scent  of  new- 
mown  hay,  I  took  tht^  road  which  follows  the  shore,  but  does  not  touch  it.  till 
th(!  lulls  are  reached,  at  Machias,  whi<'h  is  built  around,  above,  astride,  and 
uuderiu'ath  them,  as  if  to  intercept  every  drop  of  water  that  «'omes  <lown 
through  the  foaming  gorge. 

Here  is  the  water-power  which  drew  settlers  to  tin;  place  '  as  long  ago  as 
J7(i.');  and  here  are  the  all-devouring  mills  through  whi(di  whole  forests  have 
passed,  —  a  mournful  jtrocession,  driven  like  sheep  to  tlu!  shand)les,  from  whieh 
proceed  loud  cries  of  distress  as  a  log  is  seiz<'il,  pinioned,  stn'tched  on  a  sort  of 
rack,  and  pusluil  into  the  jaws  of  the  machine  that  instantly  tears  it  in  pieces 
and  spits  the  fragments  out  again,  .lust  above,  aie  the  logs  that  the  river  has 
broughti  down;  just  below,  are  the  wharves,  the  boards,  llie  sawed  lumber,  and 
the  vessels  taking  in  their  cargoes.  Around  this  centre  of  its  activity  tln' 
village  spi'eads  its(df  out.  with  a,  (diarming  irregulaiity  and  fi'eedom. 

Not  to  mince  mattei's,  the  business  (piarter  of  .Matdiias  is  honudy  ;  the  resi- 
den<-e  p(Mtion,  homelike.  .\s  tlu^  shin;  town,  it  is  provich-d  with  a  court-h«>nse 
and  jail;  as  the  piditieal  centre,  with  two  exeidleul  lirbdomadals. 

The  inhabitants  of  Ma(diias  are  justly  proud  tA'  tlxdr  military  hist(U'y.  To 
the  firmness  and  intrepidity  (d'  tlnii'  lathers  we  owe  the  |»res('rvation  of  this 
extreme  outpost  of  the  colonies,  throughout  the  K'evolutinuary  War,  though  so 
little  has  been  said  alxud.  it  that  the  la<-t  is  hardly  known  nutsidt;  of  the  locality 
itself.  Kortunately  there  were  leaders  cipial  to  any  emergency,  and  a  spirit 
cipial  to  auy  sacriiicc. 

It  was  in  flune,  177."),  that  two  sloops  arrived  at  Machias,  umler  the  protec- 
tior.  (d'  the  armed  s(  hooner  Miii'ijui'vtta.,  to  be  loadeil  with  lundier  for  the  use  of 
the  Uritish  troops,  then  mustering  to  put  down  rclxdlion  at  lioston.  'I'he  feel- 
ing of  resistance,  which  had  united  the  people  farthei"  west  as  one  man,  .seems 
not  to  have  crystalli/ed  here  as  yet,  so  the  vesstds  took  in  their  cargoes  without 
hindrance.  Jiut  there  wiue  bolder  spirits  abroad  who  were  determined  to  pre- 
vent the  sailing  of  the  vessids  at  all  hazards.  Their  plans  were  (piitddy  laid. 
A  party  of  them  tirst  took  possession  (d'  the  sloo|)S.  I'auboldi'iicd  by  this  eusy 
(HtiKiuest,  it  was  then  proposed  to  take  the  ManjuMUiAiMK  I'.ut.  bir  this  hazardous 
vent\ire  the  jtatriots  couM  only  mustiT  twenty  muskets  and  a  few  axes  and 
pit(diff»rks.  They  spiritedly  resolv«(d,  however,  to  make  the  attempt,  with  su(  h 
arms  as  they  had,  and  having  manned  the  sloops,  set  sail  in  pursuit  of  the  Mur- 
ijaretta.  whi(di  had  dropped  down  the  river,  out  of  gunshot.  One  of  the  slocps 
soon' got  aground.     With  the  other.  .Jerenuah  O'lirien  kt!])t  on  out  to  .sea,  laid 


.'WG 


THE   I'lXE-TKKE   COAST. 


* 


,1 :. 


i    t 


his  vessel  alon<,'si(le  the  enemy,  and  carried  Ijer  after  a  brief  struggU',  in  which 
the  Jiritisli  captain  was  mortally  wonnded. 

Not  satisfied  with  this  (Uiy's  work,  liowever,  the  men  of  Machias  next 
resolved  to  carry  the  war  into  the  enemy's  territory.  They  looked  forward  to 
an  easy  concjnest,  it  is  true,  beeaust?  at  this  time  (juite  a  large  part,  if  not  a 
majority,  of  the  people  of  Nova  Scotia  were  at  heart  favorable  to  the  American 
oau.s«'.  Itelying,  therefore,  more  upon  this  fact  than  in  his  own  nund)ers. 
(Colonel  Jonathan  Eddy*  led  an  attack  against  Fort  CUnnberland  in  177(5.  It 
not  oidy  jtroved  unsuccessful,  —  disastrously  so.  indeed. — l)ut  was  productive 
of  great  hardshii)  to  those  friendly  settlers  who  had  been  led  to  commit  them- 
selves, by  word  or  deed,  or  luul  iiided  or  abetted  the  invasion,  in  any  way,  many 
of  whom  were  shortly  driven  out  of  the  ])rovince  or  thrown  into  priscm. 

From  this  time  forth  Machias  became  the  especial  mark  for  British  ven- 
geance, which  was  only  deferred  until  a  sufficient  force  could  be  got  together 
for  the  purpose  in  view.     The  rebel  nest  was  to  be  l)lotted  out  of  existence. 

The  occasion  came  when,  on  the  l.'ith  of  August,  1777.  three  British  frigates 
and  a  brigantine  were  discovered  standing  up  the  bay,  with  all  sail  set.  This 
display  of  force  wouiu  seem  to  have  been  enough  to  jnit  all  idea  of  resistance 
out  of  most  men's  heads;  but  the  Machias  men  were  not  made  of  that  sort  of 
stuff".  So  under  the  h'ad  of  such  nu'u  as  .lonathan  Eddy,  dolm  Allan,  Georgt; 
Stillman,  Stei)hen  Smith,  and  Benjamin  Foster,  they  resolved  to  tight  it  out 
then  and  there,  and  fight  it  out  they  did  with  a  will.  They  sent  off  their  women 
and  children  to  the  woods,  called  in  Chief  Neptune's  friendly  Quoddy  Indians, 
l)osted  themselves  ah)ng  the  narrows  of  the  river,  and  then  waited  for  the 
enemy  to  come  and  attack  tlu-m. 

iMachias  is  not  an  easy  place  to  attack  with  large  vessels,  as  they  can  only 
get  uj'  to  it  when  the  tide  is  well  toward  the  flood.  Wlii'ii  it  is  down,  they  lie 
aground.  From  this  cause  Sir  George  Collier  could  only  send  his  smallest 
vessel  up  to  destroy  the  town.  There  is  a  ])oint  of  land  Indow  the  village  called 
the  Kim,  at  Avhich  the  east  and  west  rivers  come  together,  thence  running  on 
in  one  stream.  The  ^lachias  men  had  thrown  up  a  temporary  breastwork  here, 
besides  obstructing  the  (dianntd  with  a  boom.  As  the  brigantine  came  up 
within  range,  in  tow  of  all  her  boats,  oiir  people  poured  in  so  hot  a  tire  from  the 
banks  and  the  battery,  that  she  hastily  let  go  her  anchor  below  the  Bim. 
Nothing  further  took  jdace  that  afternoon.  The  next  day,  however,  the  en«'my 
landed,  under  cover  of  a  fog,  drove  the  defenders  t)ut  of  the  battery,  cut  away  the 
boom,  and  set  tire  to  some  hou.ses  and  a  mill  in  the  vicinity  unopposed.  Nothing 
now  hindered  an  advance  upon  the  village  itself,  except  the  stalwart  arms  and 
resolute  purpose  of  its  defenders,  among  whom  none  show<'d  more  conspicuous 
bravery  than  Neptune's  warriors.  Its  destruction  seenu'd  inevitable,  however, 
when  the  brigantine  was  seen  warping  up  within  gunshot,  stripped  for  fighting; 
but  the  sight  of  large  bodies  of  nu'u  advantagecmsly  post»'d  to  repel  a  landing, 
the  demoniac  yells  of  the  Indians,  who  could  be  seen  running  from  point  to 
point  in  order  to  get  a  shot,  seems  to  have  decided  the  liritish  captain  to  give 


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FUOM  TETIT  MAN  AN  TO  MAClllAS. 


339 


over  the  attempt  even  after  his  boats  were  manned,  after  tiring  a  few  harmless 
shots.  It  was  no  such  easy  matter,  however,  to  get  out  of  the  trap  he  was  in. 
Tlie  boats  were  again  set  to  towing  the  brigantine  out  of  tlie  river  under  a  gall- 
ing fire  of  cannon  and  musketry,  with  which  the  Americans  plied  them  from 
every  cover  and  at  every  turn,  until  the  harassed  and  discomfited  British  tars 
found  safety  under  the  guns  of  the  fleet,  which  soon  sailed  away  leaving 
Machias  scarcely  harmed.  Sir  George  Collier  reported  in  his  despatch  to  the 
admiralty  how  thoroughly  he  had  cleaned  out  the  rebel  nest. 

Although  we  have  seen  that  Castine  fell  into  British  hands  in  1779,  Machias 
was  successfully  held  against  the  enemy  throughout  the  war.  It  yielded,  how- 
ever, in  1814,  on  the  approach  of  an  invading  force.  The  cir(!umstance  that  no 
garrison  was  found  in  the  fort,  except  a  immber  of  bullocks,  gave  rise  to  con- 
siderable merriment  among  the  invaders,  one  of  whom  wittily  declared  that 
American  forts  were  far  more  suggestive  of  ox-parts  than  ramparts. 

East  Machias  is  tin;  twin  village  of  the  other  —  identical  in  looks,  interests, 
and  situation.  These  three  villages  once  formed  a  single  township.  As  each  one 
is  four  miles  from  the  other,  it  was  found  expedient  for  each  to  set  up  for  itself, 
thus  again  proving  the  old  adage  that  two  of  a  trade  can  never  agree. 

From  East  Machias  to  Cutler  it  is  fourteen  miles  by  a  very  roundabout 
route.  For  half  the  distance  the  road  skirts  the  greater  bay ;  it  then  winds 
round  the  head  of  Little  Machias  Bay  into  the  wild  and  shaggy  region  surround- 
ing the  harbor  at  Little  River,  the  name  by  which  that  part  of  Cutler  has 
been  known  to  sea-faring  people  in  former  years. 

The  long  outlooks  over  the  water,  as  successive  hilltops  are  climbed,  the 
queer  little  handets  occasionally  encountered  when  least  expected,  would  make 
this  route  seem  a  short  one  to  the  traveller,  even  if  the  (!ool  stretches  of  fir 
and  tamarack  were  not  shorn  of  their  loneliness  by  our  loquacious  driver's 
*'  swift  and  sententious  "  chatter  about  the  deer  he  has  seen  walking  these 
woods  in  broad  day,  like  the  *'  native  burghers  of  this  desert  city."  AVhen  a 
stream  is  crossed,  he  tells  us  about  the  red-speckled  trout  that  laugh  and  grow 
fat  in  the  shade  of  the  alders.  On  this  particular  day,  however,  we  saw  neither 
deer  nor  trout,  alive  or  dead.  It  is  a  thinly  peopled  half  wilderness,  between 
Machias  and  Cutler.  One  solitary  hamlet  was  pointed  out  as  being  a  settle- 
ment of  Latter  Day  Saints.  I  have  heard  of  such  things  before  about  Eastern 
Maine,  but  had  put  no  great  faith  in  them,  until,  on  arriving  in  such  or  such  a 
neighborhood,  I  found  them  to  be  a  matter  of  common  notoriety.  My  inform- 
ant could  not  say  whether  polygamy  was  practised  or  not,  but  he  gave  his  fa(!e 
a  very  meaning  expression,  all  the  same. 

I  saw  also  that  the  young  growth  of  firs  —  the  old  has  long  ago  disappt^ared 

—  was  being  cut  off  right  and  left  tor  supplying  a  comparatively  new  industry, 

—  the  Christmas-tree  market,  in  short.  These  trees  are  shipped  off  by  deck- 
loads,  by  car-loads,  by  whole  train-loads,  to  our  great  cities,  sold  for  a  few  cents 
apiece,  perform  their  temporary  office  for  pleasing  the  young  folks,  or  in  decorat- 
ing the  churches,  and  are  then  cast  into  the  fire.     What  I  saw  were  the  acres  of 


;J40 


THE    I'lNE-rUEE   COAST. 


1/  < 


!i'i 


stumps.  Farewell  to  the  forest !  The  Dutch,  Avho  cut  down  most  of  the  viilu- 
jible  trees  in  the  Spice  Islands  to  raise  the  price  of  those  which  remained,  were 
sashes  in  comparison  with  these  wholesale  destroyers  of  the  young  <;r(jwtli. 

The  bak.(!-api)h',  a  s[)eeies  of  wild  berry  somewhat  resembling  tlie  raspberry, 
but  getting  its  name  from  a  [jeculiar  flavor  of  its  own,  grows  among  these  open- 
ings. Hut  it  is  the  blueberry  that  nuist  be  reckoned  among  the  valuable  i)roducts 
of  Maine.  One  thousand  acres  of  otherwise  unproductive  land,  owned  by  the 
town  of  lirunswick,  are  said  to  yield  an  animal  crop  of  blueberries  worth  five 
thonsiind  dollars,  and  give  employment  to  many  jioor  people.  I  know  of  a 
family  who  picked  enough  berries  in  a  day  to  buy  a  barrel  of  Hour  with  on  their 
return  from  tlm  berry-fields. 

As  I  have  said,  our  driver  was  a  chatty  fellow  wdio  paid  litth^  or  no  atten- 
tion to  his  horse,  —  he  himself  being  occupied  exidusively  with  his  ])assengers,  — 
except  now  and  then  turning  to  give  the  animal  a  cut  of  the  wliip  which  was 
enough  to  take  oft'  the  hide. 

And  so  we  went  on,  crawling  up  one  hill  or  (diittering  down  another,  stared 
at  with  wild-eyed  astonishment  by  barefooted  (ddldren  from  the  roadside, 
bawled  at  by  men  at  work  in  the  fields,  taking  a  letter  here  or  a  parcel  there 
from  wonuMi  who  had  sn;itched  uj)  the  first  thing  tl  lit  came  ready  to  their  hands 
to  put  on  their  heads,  — that  being  most  often  a  man's  straw  hat. —  until  the 
very  last  of  the  great  graiute  swtdls  was  surmounted  that  roll  themselves 
together  about  the  little  hollow  luirbor  of  Cutler. 

As  we  descended  the  hill  toward  the  cluster  of  houses  extending  only  part 
way  along  the  edge  of  the  harbor  ludow  us,  a  ragamuffin  of  a  boy.  who  had 
grown  out  of  his  clothing  at  both  ends,  called  out  to  us  derisively,  ''The  dog- 
fish have  come  !  "  For  the  information  of  such  of  my  readers  as  may  be  ignorant 
on  the  sul)ject,  I  woidd  remark  that  this  is  tht>  name  now  given  to  summer 
visitors  along  shore,  in  retaliation  f(n'  that  t)f  "  natives,"  which  the  visitors  find 
so  appropriate  to  the  actual  residents. 

■•  For  us  on  land  there  is  no  beast 
liut  in  wonic  tish  at  sea's  cxprest," 

so  the  first  name  was  undoubtedly  suggested  by  the  fact  that  those  pests  to  the 
fishermen  always  make  their  luiwelcome  appearance  at  the  same  time  that  the 
summer  boarder  does  his. 

We  have  a  moment  or  two  to  spare,  so  1  may  be  ])ermitted  to  relate  an 
anecdote  illustrating  the  feeling  with  whi(di  these  "  natives "  are  sometimes 
regarded.  On  a  certain  afternoon  two  city  ladies  were  driving  out  for  an 
airing,  when  they  met  a  man  walking  in  the  road.  The  lady  who  was  driving 
bowed  to  him  as  to  an  old  acquaintance.  Americans  are  not  deficient  in  polite- 
ness ;  so  the  bow  was  returned,  and  the  man  passed  on  his  way.  '•  Why,"  said 
the  other  lady,  "do  you  know  that  man  you  have  just  bowed  to?"  "Not  at 
all,"  was  the  reply;  "but  I  do  it  because  it  makes  a  bright  spot  in  these  people's 
existence." 


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FKO.M    I'Kl'lT    MANAN    To    MACIIIAS. 


.•U3 


By  common  consent  there  is  no  j>rettier  or  siit'er  liarUor  on  the  whoh'  coast 
of  Elaine  than  this  same  Litth'  I{ivei-.  It  has  something'  of  a  new-old  h)ok.con- 
seciueut  upon  |)iittin<;  off  the  ohl  ilress  and  putting'  on  the  new  and  stranj^e  one. 
It  lias  hardly  ^;^^t  used  to  its  new  garb.  Its  smeient  tavern  has  tlius  been  con- 
verted into  a  summer  hotel ;  its  old  homesteads  are  being  remodelled,  or  disguised 
with  red  and  yellow  ochre.  In  a  word,  there  has  been  a  discovery,  followed 
by  an  invasion.  It  is  a  most  romantic  little  nook  s\ink  dee[»  into  the  hills, 
which  seem  to  have  opened  here  on  purpose  to  let  in  tlui  sea.  The  rough  hill- 
sides, rising  around,  are  shaggy  with  woods  and  bits  of  rusty  crag.  .\  high,  rocky 
island,  bristling  witlf  tapering  spruces,  blocks  nj)  the  entrance  so  completely 
that,  but  for  the  lighthouse  .standing  guard  over  it,  a  stranger  wo\dd  hardly 
find  his  way  in  at  all,  except  by  hugging  the  shore.  It  was  ]>rol)al>ly  this  fact 
which  Icfl  to  the  a(h)ption  of  the  uni(pie  sea-marks  one  sees  j)ictured  out  on  the 
opjiosite  headlands,  at  the  entran(^e.  The  one  at  the  right  has  three  horizontal 
white  stripes  ])ainted  on  the  rocks;  the  one  at  the  left  shows  three  disks, — 
symbols  (extremely  suggestive  of  Jack's  intimate  accpuiintance  with  the  pawn- 
bnjker's  shop.  One  of  these  headlaiuls  is  traversed  by  a  deep  fissure  which 
makes  a  tine  sp(»uting-horu  of  it. 

In  times  past  Cutler  was  better  known,  or  known  oid}-.  perhaps,  as  a  har- 
bor of  refuge,  or  as  a  station  for  Hay  of  Fundy  pih)t.s,  except  to  those  who  had 
the  bad  luck  to  !)e  east  away  in  its  neighborhood;  with  them  it  bore  no  envi- 
able rejmtation.  Even  when  I  saw  it  the  harbor  looked  far  mort^  like  a  marine 
graveyard  than  honest  jjort;  for  in  walking  only  a  short  distantu^  I  counted  no 
less  than  eight  old  wrecks  rotting  upon  the  b(!ach.  Strange  tales  these  sodden 
old  hulks  could  tell  I  One  had  met  her  doom  on  the  (hmgerous  Murre  Liulges 
of  Grand  Manan ;  others  had  been  boarded  when  abandoned  or  disabled,  and 
towed  in  here  to  l)e  "wrecked,"  as  the  saying  is,  — jdundered,  in  plain  English, 
—  under  the  shadow  of  the  church  on  yonder  hill. 

From  Little  River  to  West  (^uoddy  Head,  a  distance  of  five  leagues,  no 
shore  could  wear  a  more  weird  or  forbidding  appearance.  Look  where  you  will, 
nothing  is  to  be  seen  but  wild  waves  hishing  an  iron  shore,  with  a  ])ine  here 
and  there  rearing  its  tall  head  above  the  dark  fringe  of  vegetation.  Except 
about  Moose  Harbor  and  Haycock's  Harbor,  which  afford  some  little  shelter, 
the  coast  shows  an  \i  )r(»ken  front  of  half-mountainous  ranges  of  ashen  cliffs, 
a  league  or  more  in  width,  from  whitdi  monster  headlands  protrude  far  out,  and 
against  which  the  sea  breaks  so  violently  as  sometinu^s  to  throw  the  water  a 
hundred  feet  in  the  air.  Rut  rough  weather  and  inhospitable  coast  are  not  the 
worst  enemies  the  navigator  encounters  here. 

Perha]»s  nothing  could  so  well  illustrate  the  character  for  lawlessness,  which 
has  made  this  locality  a  by-\vord  among  sailors,  as  the  following  story  of  a 
wreck  taken  from  the  columns  of  the  Eastport  Sentinel.  The  disaster  it  speaks 
of  happened  no  longer  ago  than  the  winter  of  1.S8H. 

*'  The  story  told  by  the  crew  of  the  schooner  Flora,  recently  ashore  at  Root 
Head,  just  a  little  to  the  west  of  Quoddy  Head,  is  such  a  one  as  might  be  ex- 


;J44 


TIIK    IMNK-rilKK   COAST. 


*lri 


pccti'd  from  ('Hstiiwiiys  on  some  rohhcr  iiiid  outliiw  infested  shore,  Imt  liiinl  to 
believe  :is  li:i|i]ieiiin^  oil  this  Kasteni  Maine  (loust.  ():i|)t:iiii  Henry  Cram,  who 
was  in  ehar^e  of  the  crew  whih-  Captain  L»h!  vhuw  to  Kastpoit  for  help,  sayH 
that  a  K'^'iK  "'  lifteen  or  twenty  men  from  the  vitiinity  of  Kailey's  Mistake  (tame 
upon  them  Sunilay  nij^ht,  and  l»y  every  means  tlu'y  conld  dtivise  trieil  to  drive 
the  crew  away  from  the  vessel  and  sneh  ear^o  and  property  as  they  had  ^,'ot 
ashore,  so  that  they  mij,'ht  plnmh-r  and  wrerk  the  straiuled  craft.  The  ship- 
wrecked crew  were  conlinnally  pelted  with  stones  and  ordered  to  leave  their 
(liiarj^e  upon  threats  of  the  direst  kind.  (  H)li}^ed  to  seek  shelter  from  the  stones 
hurled  i)y  cowardly  thiev«'s  concealed  in  hushes  near  hy,  they  huddle<l  to^'ctiier 
at  the  water's  ed^,'e,  with  their  vesscd  offering'  a  shelti'r  for  them  till  the  tido 
drove  them  liehind  the  juttinj^  cnij^s  and  int(»  the  deep  (M'cvii'cs  of  the  inhospi- 
tal>le  shore!.  Thus  the  ni^^ht  was  passed,  the  worst,  ni^dit,  says  Captain  Cram, 
who  has  spent  a  halfH-entury  or  more  uavij,Mtinj^  this  coast,  that  he  ever  put 
in.  Tlie  next  morning  the  West  (^uoddy  life-savinj;  crew  omne  to  their  aid, 
and  hidpcMl  them  out  of  their  trouhle." 

1  was  further  infurmed  by  persons  of  credit  that  when  Mr.  Ilavemeyer's 
yacht  went  ashore  on  Sail  l\ock.  off  (^uoddy  Li^'ht,  and  while  he  had  ^one  after 
help  to  net  her  off,  the  wreckers,  who  seem  to  scent  their  j)rey  like  vultures, 
loot(Ml  the  vessel  of  her  movables  and  silverware.  N(»w  you  hear  a  i^nriit 
many  well-nie<inin«;  |ieople  say  that  this  is  a  dis^'racte  to  the  namcf  of  a  (uvilized 
people,  and  .so  it  is;  that  these  pirates  ou^ht  to  be  hunted  down  and  rooted 
out  with  an  unsparing  hand.  That  is  al.so  quite  true,  ^'ou  do  not  find,  how- 
ever, even  in  t\u'  lar;^e  county  building;  at  Mathias,  where  you  would  be  apt  to 
look  for  it,  any  evidence  whatev«'r  that  i)ublic  opinion  has  asserted  itself  in 
the  only  feasil)le  way  by  which  the  fair  fame  of  the  state  ccmld  be  cleared  from 
th(!  stigma  of  such  acts. 

Tlu!  (hiuj^erous.  lowdyin^'  Seal  Islands,  on  which  there  are  two  lijjhts,  Vio  far 
out  in  the  oHinj^,  surrounded  by  a  j)erpetual  surf.  They  are  a  mark  for  vesstds 
cominj^  from  the  sojithwest,  and  bound  into  (^unddy  Hay.  Hut  the  j^reatest  of 
all  landmarks  hertf  iij  that  maKniticent  wall  of  indestructible  rock,  sixteen  miles 
\o\\^  and  three  hundred  feet  hi^h,  hlue  in  the  morninj^,  i)urple  at  night,  whiirh 
lifts  its  towering;  bulk  into  view  almost  before  Mount  Desert  has  sunk  in  the 
(listance.     What  other  island  could  it  l)e  but  the  peerless  (Jrand  Manan? 


mi 


*  Steuben,  the  townsliiji  lyinfj  next  ea«t  of  (louldsboronpti,  named  for  Baron  Steubei:  nf 
RevoUitionary  fame,  is  every wlien-  deeply  indented.  At.  tlie  we.st,(;(Md<lsh(ir(iii>,'li  May  divides 
it  from  that  town  ;  Narntgua^Uii  Kiver  and  Hay  wash  it  on  tlie  east  ;  at  the  south,  I'i^'eon 
Hill  Bay  and  Dyer's  Hay  enclose  Tij^eon  Hill,  and  its  extension.  Petit  Manan  I'oint,  between 
them.  Steuben  IIar))or  is  at  the  head  of  ( Jouldsboroufjh  Bay.  iNarrasjnaKiis  Bay  cuts  deeply 
uj)  into  Millbrid);e  and  Ilarrinfiton,  at  its  head,  besides  washinj;  the  shores  of  Steuben  and 
Addison  at  its  sides.  The  entrance  is  lighted  by  Pond  Island  ( Narrajjuafju.s )  and  Na.sh  Island 
lights.  Millbridge  is  a  shipi>ing  point  for  the  lumber  mainifaetured  on  the  Narrafiuagiis,  the 
village  being  at  the  mouth  of  this  river,  at  the  head  of  navigation.    Pleasant  Uiiy,  which 


FIln.M    I'K'lir    MANAN     r<»    MACIIIAS. 


mct 


n'n-ivcH  I'lfiiHJiiil  |{ivcr.  iil  \ln  liciul,  iiiiii^ili.s  its  waters  witli  lliusc  uf  Narni;,'Uii;ius  Miiy.  at  itM 
iiiHiitli.  'I'lic  ilistaiK'i-  across  frniii  Kuwlicar  Islaixl,  on  Ihr  SiciiIh-ii  sidf,  lu  Capf  Split,  on  tlii> 
Atlilison  HJilf,  is  tliriM*  Ifa^iD-s.  Ciipi'  Splil  has  a  ^ootl  harbor.  Knnn  <'a|Nt  Split  we  tiitir 
Moosialii'c  Kfarh  (rorruptly  Moosi'  i'calo,  a  strait  scparatiiii;  .loiicsport  from  Itcal's,  lltail 
llarlM'r,  aii<i  other  islamls,  ainnnf^  wliicii  safe  anrliora^t'  is  toimil.  MooHcalM'c  l.i<,'ht  is  on 
Sliip  llarlKir  Isiaiiil,  ami  a  very  lonely  plaee  it  is.  Leaving  the  Keaeii  anil  skirting  the  niiiner- 
Otis  islands  lyin<;  out  liefoie  Mason's  May,  a  run  of  seven  miles  hrin^H  us  up  willi  Lililiy  Island 
Li^lit,  at  till-  entranei-  to  Maehias  Kay. 

''  Maehias  is  ealled,  on  tiie  map  in  Charlevoix,  1741,  llavrr  itm  Ititiit  ,Uayi  (Port  of  the 
Wise  Men  of  the  Kast),and  the  Seal  UoeUs,  /tnrhi'rn  Miiiji.  .Aeeordin;;  to  Morse,  the  liuliati 
name  was  .Meehis.ses.  Whether  tlie  more  poetic  desi;{nation  was  derived  from  the  Indian,  or 
virp  rerm,  i.s  nut  ascertained.  Itellaniy,  the  pirate,  went  int.o  tin*  river  to  careen  his  two  ves- 
Ncls  ;  he  huilt  intrenehinents  and  landed  ids  men  and  ^uns.  Church,  in  his  ex|iedition  of 
I7n|,  found  a  Krenchman  named  l.utlerelie  livin;;  on  one  of  the  islands  alMiut  the  hay,  and 
removed  him.  (ieor^e  S.  Ililliard,  lawyer,  scholar,  and  traveller,  vvas  a  native  of  .Maehias. 
There  are  some  roek-inarkiii^'H  at  Iturke's  I'oini,  wlii(;h  are  sup|H)sed  to  liavo  bucii  made  by 
the  Indians.      I  was  not  aide  to  examine  them. 

'*  Kor  further  iid'ormatinn  alioiit  this  affair,  si-e  WinthropVs  '■.lournal,"  II.  I>'d,  I>'i2. 

♦  The  first  settlers  of  .Maehias  came  from  Scarl)oroii>;h,  .Maine. 

^  i'oloiiel  .loiiathan  Ivldy  was  a  native  of  that  part  of  Ncutoii.  .Mass,,  now  incoriiorated  as 
Manstield.  After  the  French  war  of  I7'>H,  in  which  he  served  witli  credit,  Kiidy,  like  many 
other  New  Hn^lunders,  settled  in  Nova  Scotia.  Tlu^  town  of  I'.ddiu^ton,  Maine,  to  whi(di  he 
removed  after  the  war,  takes  its  name  from  him.  See  KidiUi's  "  Kasterii  Mainu  and  Nova 
Scotia." 


I 


WIIKKK    IIIKI     I'KV     t  !•    TIIK    SI  N. 


CHArTKlI    XXV. 


Ilji 

1.1 1 


I 


KASTIMIIJT    AND    <M<>I>I»V    HAV. 

^'Ferret.     No  t'ern-si-fd  in  my  iMM-kt-i ;  nor  ;iii  njial  wrapt  in  hay-k'af  in  my  left 
list  til  fliann  tla-ir  eyes  with." —  /'Iw  Xor  Inn. 

BKIIOLI)  us  Jit  last  ari-ivcd  at  th«'  point  wli(»iv,  tiguratively  spcakiiifif,  they 
|ir\  up  the  sun  with  a  crowliar. — at  that  cUisive,  and  still  (lt'l)atal)l»', 
J)owu  East  which  is  the  I'ruitt'ul  souire  of  so  many  (piips  anil  (piirks  to  (uir 
transuioutauc  population  I 

Tlic  passaj,'!'  tlirouj,^    all  the  rocky  galleries  of  the   I'iue-Tree  Coast  culuii- 
nates  at  (i>uo(l(ly  Hay  in  a  masterpiece. 

Upon  roundini,' West  (»>uo«l(ly  Head,'  and  its  zebra-striped  lip;htliouse,  Lid)ee 

lilts  its  one  central  and  dominatini;  spire  above  the  dome  of  white  houses,  like 

the  spike  <m  a  j^remulier's  helmet.     It  .seems  but  a  moment  af^o  since  we  were 

breastini,'   the   open    sea,    with    the  wild   waves  tearin;^  themselves  to  tatters 

:i4<> 


•ulini- 


V. 


pi 


ii 


ffilFI 


Jl         i 


iti! 


i 

S 

1 

! 

1 

II 

. 


i;M  1' 

'  r: 

4=-;--    4^     f 

ir 

KASTJ'ORT    AND    CiUODDV    HAV. 


349 


against  the  iron  ribs  of  an  iron  coast,  and  the  strong  tidi-  whirling  and  snrging 
n[)  against  onr  prow,  as  it'  to  dispute  the  way  with  us  ;  now  we  have  glided 
into  a  h)ng  reaeh  of  snuioth  water,  narrowing  liere,  expantling  there,  disap- 
pearing yonder  behind  a  nudtitude  of  islands,  capes,  or  headlands,  whicdi  lie 
stretched  out  luxuriously  under  (roverletsof  green  on  all  sides  of  this  delectable 
basin.  Souu'  lie  in  shadow,  some  in  light;  some  an^  a  dark  green,  sonic  a 
l)right  yellow  or  faded  browi;  ;  in  truth,  it  is  a  variegated  patcdiwork  of  colors 
from  Dame  Nature's  own  hands,  yet  always  standing  out  in  strong  relief  against 
blue  water  and  azure  sky. 

Presently,  tlinmgh  the  oix-n  strait,  which  we  are  ncaring  at  racehorse 
speed,  we  dimly  descry  the  blur  of  red  and  white  houses  confusedly  thrown  up 
against  a  distant  hillside,  which  is  again  topped  by  an  odd-looking  structure 
rescnd)ling  a  martcllo  tow«'r  raised  for  defence.  This  can  be  no  otlier  than  our 
destined  jiort,  tiie  coiuiug  end  of  our  journeyings  together  ;  the  line,  in  short, 
across  which  donathan  and  .John  have  so  long  looked  askance  at  each  other, 
but  which  mutual  interest,  social  intercourse,  and  the  feeling  of  a  common  des- 
tiny are  fast  effacing  from  the  maj). 

The  run  up  through  (^)uoddy  roads  is  made  all  too  (pnckly,  the  shifting 
shores  are  piissed  all  too  suddcidy  for  nu-mory  to  hold  what  the  eye  grasps 
oidy  for  a  single  moment,  and  then  se(!S  receding  in  the  foanung  wake  behind. 
Almost  before  we  are  aware,  our  great  white  steamer  is  tearing  through  the 
narrows,  having  on  one  hand  t\w.  wharves  of  Lubec  so  near  that  the  idlers 
exchange  greetings  with  us ;  seeing  on  the  other  the  light-keeper's  honest  face 
as  he  answers  our  deep-mouthed  salute  with  a  wave  of  his  hand.  Tiiis  must  be 
Mulholland's  Point  of  C^impolxdlo.  Ves,  and  out  beyond  us  there  is  the  Friar's 
Heail.  Out  we  dart  into  another  still  basin,  t(»  which  this  i)assage  is  only  the 
vestibule. 

There  at  our  left  are  three  rounded  islands  ;  here  at  our  right  the  tawny 
(diffs  of  the  Friar's  Head  glower  upon  us  for  a  moment,  as  they  echo  back  the 
beat  of  our  paddle-wheels.  Over  beyond,  stretched  along  tlieedg*'  of  a  gravelly 
beach,  we  seethe  little  village  and  harbor  of  Wehdipool,  with  Kastp(U't,  on  its 
island,  advancing  (mt  toward  it  from  the  ()i>posite  shore;  on  one  and  the  other 
side  we  see  the  lied  Cross  of  England  and  the  Star  Spangled  IJanner  waving 
amicably  in  the  same  breeze.  At  our  right  hand  the  green  fields  of  Cauipobello 
glow  warm  in  the  sunshine;  at  our  hd't  the  arid  area  t»f  housetops  seems 
impatiently  thrusting  back  the  country.  Is  it  an  epitome  of  national  character? 
We  shall  soon  see. 

From  this  pictorial  Eden  one  is  presently  turned  out  to  meet  the  disenchant- 
ing aspects  of  unpaved  streets  and  wooden  walks,  from  wduch,  on  every  side, 
handsonui  buildings,  exhibiting  tlu' date  of  1SS7,  stand  for  so  many  memorials 
of  the  great  conflagration  which  laid  Fastport  in  ashes.-'  Notwithstanding  the 
heai)S  of  rubbish  still  lying  about  in  odd  corners,  there  is  evidence  of  rapid  if 
not  complete  recovery.  The  town  is  certaiidy  better  built,  though  ap|»earances 
would  indicate  that  the  relmilding  proce«'ded  with  too  much  haste  for  a  new 


1:1 


k 


til! 


350 


THE   PINE-TREE   COAST. 


1 1     ^m 


Ifi  !  a 


cm  of  good  taste  to  come  in  with  it.  To  that  extent  the  tire  Wcas  a  lost 
opi)ortunity.  What  is  new  has  a  raw,  untinished  look;  and  what  is  old  seems 
older  still  by  its  contrast  with  the  new. 

The  islanil  on  which  Eastport  is  built  rises  from  the  water,  by  a  sharp 
ascent,  to  the  summit  of  a  high,  rocky  spur,  precipitous  and  nearly  inaccessible 
on  one  side,  from  which  one  gets  a  most  delightful  prosjjcct  of  hind  and  sea. 
This  emineixce  w;us  onct'  crowned  by  Fort  Sidlivan,  an  earthwork  dating  from 
the  War  of  ISI'J,  Init  the  embankments  have  been  mostly  levelled  to  make  room 
for  the  iron  water-tower,  which  looms  up  so  ('onspicuiously  from  every  ])oint  of 
ai)proach.  There  are  scores  of  wood-built  towns  in  Maine  which  might  well 
take  a  leaf  from  Eastport's  experience,  before  having  resort  to  the  old  adage 
of  shutting  the  stal)le  door  after  the  horse  has  es(^aped. 

This  hill  offers  an  excellent  vantage-ground  for  a  picturesque  reconnoissance 
of  the  surroundings. 

At  times  a  ••  very  ancient  and  fish-like  smell "  pervades  the  air  here,  from 
which,  however  destructive  of  the  ronuintic  it  may  be,  there  is  no  escaping. 
This  proceeds  from  the  siirdine  factories  by  the  harbor  shore  itelow  us.  The 
American  sardine  is  simply  a  young  herring  put  up  in  cotton-seed  oil,  and 
lal)elhf(l  with  the  trade-mark  of  some  reputable  French  pac^ker.  —  Sanliues  d, 
I'hnile.  It  is  argued  that  what  everybody  knows  to  l).e  a  fraud  is  no  fraud  at  aJL 
This  cinuimstance  has  given  rise  to  no  little  sarcasm  on  the  part  of  members 
of  Congress  who  hail  from  the  South,  where  the  oil  is  ])roduced,  when  they 
have  been  asked  to  protect  an  American  industry. 

Never  having  seen  this  delic^acy  prcfjared  for  the  market,  I  obtained  leave 
to  inspect  one  of  the  factories;  and  if  what  I  saw  there  be  a  fair  sami»le  of  the 
methods  in  general  use,  then  I  can  truthfully  say  that  the  desire  to  taste  these 
toothsome  little  fishes  again  was  then  and  there  eradicated.  Nothing  could  be 
more  simjjle  than  the  operati(»n  itself.  In  every  factory  tlu^re  is  a  largj^  oven, 
to  the  inside  of  which  a  rotary  framework  of  iron  is  fitted,  just  like  tlK)se  in  u.se 
in  the  cracker  bakeries.  This  ma(;hiue  is  cajiable  of  being  turned  by  a  crank 
from  the  outside.  After  washing,  the  fish  are  put  in  shallow  iron  pans,  which 
again  are  placed  within  the  macdune,  and  the  oven  door  shut,  when  the  operator 
turns  the  crank  until  the  batch  is  sutticiently  roasted,  after  which  the  fish  are 
taken  out,  to  be  i)acked  away  in  little  tin  boxes,  either  with  oil  or  a  preparation 
of  oil  and  mustard.     They  are  then  sealed  up  and  are  ready  for  market. 

In  1888  there  were  seventeen  of  these  fac^tories  in  and  about  Easti)ort,  from 
which,  in  good  seasons,  a  very  lai'ge  pack  is  turned  out;  that  is  to  say,  when  the 
herring-sardine  is  phuity  and  plump,  and  prices  are  remunerative.'  At  the 
time  of  my  visit,  the  scitson's  catcdi  was  not  only  poor  in  (piality,  but  had  been 
so  light  that  work  only  went  on  intermittently  in  the  factories.  AVhen  the 
boatmen  bnmght  in  a  sutticient  (luantity,  the  works  would  start  up  and  run  until 
the  su])ply  gave  out.  The  pri(!e  formerly  obtaintul  has  rapidly  fallen  oft"  with 
the  (piality,  inasmuch  as  «'ompetitioii  has  tended  to  make  the  j)a(;kers  more  and 
more  careless,  in  the  desire  to  cheapen  their  product. 


EASTl'OUr   AND   Ql'ODDY    BAY. 


.•i")! 


Most  of  the  operatives  whom  I  saw  at  work  were  youuf^  girls  or  boys 
between  the  ages  of  twelve  and  sixteen,  perhaps,  who  were  as  lively  as  crickets 
on  an  October  day,  but  to  whom  the  use  of  soap  and  water  seemed  as  a  lost  art. 
I  went  out  of  one  of  the  filthiest  places  I  ever  wjis  in,  with  a  feeling  that  tin; 
old  adage  ought  to  be  newly  rendered  for  the  benefit  of  all  purveyors  of  food 
])roducts  whatsoever,  somewhat  in  this  manner,  "  Cleanliness  is  tlu?  first  law 
of  nature." 

liesides  the  sardin**  factori«'s.  EastiKjrt  do<»s  a  great  business  in  putting  up 
smoked  and  salted  herrings  for  shipment  to  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  land. 
And  her  harvest-field  is  at  her  dcx)rs. 

1  heard  a  story  here  at  Eastport  most  singularly  ilhistrating  how  human 
pride  may  cling  to  a  shattered  intellect,  like  ivy  round  a  ruin.  For  full  forty 
years  this  man  had  lived  the  life  of  a  hermit.  Though  he  shunned  all  inter- 
course with  his  fellows,  he  w;is  always  I'ourteous  and  affable  enough  when 
a])proached ;  but  it  was  evident  that  he  had  found  the  world  too  much  for  him 
and  would  be  ai)art  from  it.  His  poverty  was  a  matter  of  common  notoriety 
as  well  as  of  anxiety  anumg  his  neighbors,  fcjr  he  was  too  )»roud  to  beg,  and  how 
he  managed  to  live  was  a  mystery  that  few  knew  the  secret  of  until  the  day 
of  his  death.  It  seems  that  the  recluse  had  somehow  become  possessed  of  the 
strange  notion  that  the  rocks  lying  about  the  place  where  he  lived  alone 
contained  valuable  silver  ores.  Under  the  influence  of  this  infatuation  lie 
would  every  now  and  then  wheel  a  load  of  them  into  town  to  sell  them  among 
his  neighbors,  who,  it  appears,  were  willing  to  sui)i)ly  the  jioor  fellow's  wants 
clandestinely,  as  they  could  not  do  so  openly.  They  therefore  arranged  with 
a  storekeeper  who  was  in  the  secret,  to  buy  the  ro(!ks  of  him  from  time  to  time, 
giving  what  the  man  needed  in  exchange.  This  novel  bartt'r  went  on  for 
several  years,  during  which  time  it  is  estimated  that  the  hermit  had  wheeled 
upwards  of  twenty  tons  of  worthless  stones  to  his  charity  market,  without  ever 
suspecting  the  deceit  being  ]»ractised  upon  liim.  Surely  this  must  have  been 
what  our  old  friend  Hudibra.s  meant  when  he  wrote  that  enigmatic^al  (iouplet:  — 

"  Doubtlfss  the  pleasure  is  as  f{ieat 
Of  bein<r  cheated  as  to  cheat." 

Eastport  has  no  early  history  worth  mentioning,  and  but  little  of  its 
romance.  At  the  close  t)f  the  Revolution  it  contained  only  a  single  family. 
All  this  border  was  debatable  gnmnd  —  a  source  of  chronic  irritation  between 
the  two  countries  that  threatened  an  open  rupture  at  any  moment  —  down  to 
the  time  when  a  final  adjustment  of  the  vexatious  Ixmndary  ([uestion  brought 
peace  to  the  settlers.  A  British  vessel  is  rejiorted  to  have  bombarded  Eastport 
in  1H07,  or  long  before  the  occurrence  of  actual  hostilities.  During  the  War  of 
iSlli  this  ])art  of  the  coast  was  harried  with  impunity  by  British  expeditions 
fitted  out  from  Halifax.  Then,  as  now,  Halifax  was  the  standing  menace  to 
these  remote  cojist  villages.  Halifax  is  still  there,  but  where  is  the  Americjui 
stronghold  ?  where,  oh,  where  is  the  American  Halifax  ? 


T     ■}       -■ 


i 


n       ! 


il  a 


;i;"L' 


rilK    IMNi;    IHKK    COASr 


i: 


III  (Hie  (il  tlicsf  liostilc  t'X|)('(liti(ms  Kastitort  \v;is  smri'iKlcrt'd,  without,  rt'sist- 
aiii-*',  to  :i  land  iind  n:iv;il  I'orcf  iiiidi'i-  tli*'  coiiiiiiaiiil  ol  Sii'  'I'lionius  iliinly,  the 
IriciKl  :iii(l  l)r<itlicr-iii-;iniis  ol'  llic  ^;ill;iiit  Nt'lsoii.  'I'liis  Iiappciicd  on  .luly  ."», 
isl  I.  A  pniuaiu'iit  j^anisoii  was  posted  in  tin-  t<»wn,  wlii(di  Hardy  dt'clai'(,'d  it 
to  lie  his  intention  to  Imhl  as  l>ritish  tenitorv.  under  the  treaty  of  17<S'!.  No 
vindictive  severities   marked   the  occupation.       The   inhabitants  were  I'lMpiired 

oither  t,o  tiike  the 
o;ith  of  alle;4i;inc<' 
to  the  Prince  Ke- 
|.,'ent.  and  thus  he- 
conie  r>ritisii  sub- 
jects, or  h'ave  the 
phici',  —  a  <'ourse 
many  ]  (referred 
to  a  <v)mpliance 
with  the  order  to 
d  e  na  t  i  o  n  a  I  i /e 
t.liemsrlves.  lOast- 
port  continued  t.o 
l)e  a  IJritish  post 
I'or  threi!  years 
after  this  war  liad 
ch'^ed,  ;ind  un(h'i 
I  lie  pretence  that 
tlie  island  on 
whicli  it  stands 
—  Moose  Ishind — 
hidontfcd  to  New 
Urunswick. 

I  fancy,  how- 
ever, that  Kast- 
port  will  he  found 
maiidy*  attractive; 
on  account  of  its 
u  n  c  o  m  ni  o  u  1  y 
interesting  sur- 
roundings. In  this 
respect  it  offers  a  ri(di  field  tn  the  lover  of  natural  scenery.  There  is  a  generous 
l)re:ulth  about  «'verything  which  commands  resjM'ct. 

In  th(i  first  place,  Eastport  is  part  and  panud  of  a  systian  of  coast  and  inlan«l 
navigation  simply  wonilerful  in  its  ext«'nt  and  picturescjucness.  (io  when;  yon 
will,  there  is  seennngly  no  end  to  the  novelty  or  charm  of  its  environment. 
And  there  i.s  such  a  variety  of  water  <'xcursions  at  command  that  one  is  (juite 


.^.^ 


KASTl'OK'i-    AM)    (^lODDV    HAY. 


mii 


at  a  loss  to  clioosn  iimong  tlicin,  and  so  iisually  i-nds  tlic  mutter  by  Icaviiig  tlio 

(Ici'isioll    to  cllilllCt'. 

First  iuid  fon'most,  there  is  CaiMpolH-llo  Island  Iviii^  o\it  liel'ore  y<»u  lor 
noarly  its  entire  lenj^'tli.  At  almost  any  lioiir  of  the  il;iy  you  may  i^o  to  (Jampo- 
hello.  'i'hen  there  ;ire  Luhee  and  tlie  Narrows,  with  the 
live  miles'  drive  thencu'  around  the  sliore  to  (,)noddy 
Head.  'I'hese  two  exewrsioiis  will  render  us  i'andliar 
with  the  siiores  and  entranet^  to  West  (^Mioddy  |5ay.  of 
whi(rh  (!am|iohe]h»  is  the  ^reat  sea-wall,  and  Kastport  tiie 
metropolis.  .\lter  tiiese  comes  the  eiiiirniini;  sail  np 
the,  liay,  int-i  tlie  heaiitil'id  S;unt.  ('roix,  ti»  Siunt  .\mlrews 
and  Calais,  and  Saint  Stepiien.  I  laving  llnis  carried  the 
outworks,  as  it  were,  having'  sailed  in  snu)oth  waters  to 
our  h(!a.rt's  content,  tin-re  still  rein:nns  the  crownin},; 
achiev«nneid,  ol'  an  ocean  voya;^'e  at  twenty  nules  to  ( irand 
iManan,  or  ol'  lil'ty  to  Saint,  .lohn. 

Kastport  is  tlius  except ionally  favored  in  respect  ol' 
luu'  superldy  landlocked  watt-r  front,  no  less  than  her 
outlying  coasts  and  harliors,  an<l  is  lackinj^f  oidy  in  the 
]M'oper  (Mpiipinent  of  a  summer  resort  to  render  all  the,:(f 
natural   .^dl'ts,  so  lavishly  bestowed,  thoroui^ldy  available, 

ijookinj;  off  a('r(»ss  tlie  water  I'lom  the  iOastport 
wharves,  (!am|)obello  shows  a  backijroiind  of  low  wooded 
hills  stretching  behind  the;  more  gentle  undulations  of 
the  bay  sIku'c.  Directly  before  us  the  bay  makes  a 
gra(^(d'ul  cui've  inward  between  two  headlands,  so  form- 
ing a  broad,  still  basin  from  w  hiidi  the  ground  slopes 
b;ick  to  a  spacious  tract  of  sunny  upland  that  extends 
<[uit<!  atiross  the  island  in  its  narrowest  part.  'I'his  is 
the  village  and  hailxir  of  WeldiMool.  'I'he  southern 
])ronn»ntory  is  the  Friar's  Head;  the  indentation.  l''i'iar"s 
i>ay;  ami  the  adjoining  strip  of  high  shore  just  pointed 
out  is  the  admirably  chosen  site  for  the  hotels  and 
4;()ttag('S  of  the  ('ampolM>llo  Ijand  (Company,  an  .\meri('an 
ji.sso(".iation  which,  by  ai-ipuriiig  luost  of  the  island,  have 
thus  taken  the  prelinunary  steps  towanl  annexation. 
Either  we  must  have  this  island,  because  in  the  event  of 
hostilities  Eastport  would  lie  at  its  mercy,  or  diplomacy 
must  do  what  force  could  not  for  the  defence  of  the  Ameriean  shore,  by  de(dar- 
ing  it  all  neutral  ground. 

Oampobello  is  indeed  beautiful  to  look  cat  of  a  summer  afternoon  when  the 
low  sun  lights  up,  with  an  intense  brightness,  all  tln^  scattered  cottages  dotting 
tln^  island  shore  from  Windmill  Point  to  Friar's  H«'ad. 

Where  we  see  so  many  evidences  of  the  value  of  our  shore  fisheries,  and 


n\ 


^ 


IMV 


) 


TlIK    INVADI'.n. 


¥ 

\  1 

1 

'.1 

\ 

I 

^54 


THE   I'LNE-TRKE   COAST. 


where  every  one  is  more  or  less  dependent  upon  them  for  liis  daily  bread,  we 
can  but  feel  an  active  interest  in  all  that  pert.iins  to  a  business  that  has  worked 
so  many  miracles  in  its  time  and  season.  '*  And  what  sport,''  says  the  redoubt- 
able Captain  Smith,  with  true  poetic  feeliny,  '"doth  yield  a  more  pleasing  con- 
tent than  angling  with  a  hooke,  and  crossing  the  sweete  ayre  from  isle  to  isle 
over  the  calme  streames  of  a  summer  sea?  And  is  it  not  pretty  sport  to  pull 
up  twopence,  sixpence,  and  twelvepence  as  fast  as  ycni  can  hale  and  veare  a 
line  ?  " 


ilKill    AND    DKY. 


The  shores  round  about  us  are  fringed  with  weirs  for  taking  herring.  But 
the  prettiest  sight  of  all,  to  a  landsman,  is  the  one  witnessed  on  every  forenoon 
here,  when  the  Campobello  boats  go  out  into  the  northern  passage  to  catch  the 
pollock,  which  run  in  shoals  here  until  the  turn  of  the  tide  carries  them  out 
into  the  Bay  of  Fundy  again.  To  this  cause  the  Passamacjuoddy  presumably 
(jwes  its  name,  which,  in  Indian,  means  Great  Pollock  Water.  Hundreds  of 
l)oats  are  then  e^  a  tacking  to  and  fro  among  the  tide-rips,  like  gulls  hovering 
over  a  school  of  mackerel,  until  the  pollock  strike  off  for  other  feeding-grounds, 
when  the  whole  fleet  bears  uj)  for  Deer  Island  or  Campobello  to  land  their 


EASTI'OUr   AND   (irODDY    HAY. 


.355 


catch.  The  boats  used  here  are  of  the  whale-boat  pattern  —  sharp  at  both  ends, 
deep  in  the  water,  and  broad  of  beam  —  as  the  most  weatherly,  roomy,  and 
quickly  worked  craft  that  a  tisherman  can  have.  The  fish  cured  here,  and  called 
English  pollock,  are  preferred  by  many  peojjle  even  to  the  codfish  for  a  fish 
dinner. 

I  went  over  to  Campoljcllo  impressed  with  the  notion  that  there  was  (juite 
too  much  "Taffy"  about  all  those  Welsh  names  that  .sound  so  outlandish  to 
unaccustomed  ears.  Tlien  again,  thisrpiarter  of  the  world  has  always  had  such 
an  unenviable  reputation,  on  account  of  its  fogs,  that  fog  and  Fundy  have  come 
to  be  synonymous  terms  with  most  people.  "  Why,"  said  a  man  I  met  by  the 
way,  "you'd  be  a  settin'  there,  with  clear  sky  all  around  you,  and  in  half  an 
hour  the  fog  would  be  thick  enough  to  drive  a  nail  into  and  hang  your  hat  on 
it.  Fog!  liah!  Mount  Desert's  a  paradise  to  it.  I  don't  know  but  you  could 
shovel  it  up  and  cart  it  off  by  the  wheelbarrow-load  if  it  would  fetch  anything." 

Though  haunted  by  the  f«'ar  of  fog  from  day 
to  day,  I  am  bound  to  say  that,  out  of  the  ten 
days  I  spent  in  the  neighborhood,  only  one 
brought  the  exasperating  vajtor  along  with  it. 
And  in  this  instanite  it  soon  disapi^eared  under 
the  ardent  rays  of  a  noonday  sun. 

To  an  artist  in  search  of  .studies  of  fish  and 
men.  Welchpool    is    the  ideal  fishing-village,  — 
oppressively  (piiet,  strongly   tinctured  with  the 
odor  of  smoked  herring,  and  wearing  a  look  of 
contented    indigence.       When  the  tide  is 
out  and  the  pretty  beach  of  fine  dark  gravel  ^ 
is  uncovered,  all  the  lumpy  fishing-smackfi  p„ 
lie  high  aground,  and  all  the  wharves  are  « 
left  high  in  the  air,  so  giving  the  place  the 
appearance  of  having  been  swept  by  a  tidal 
wave  which  has  just  subsided. 

This   makes   us  aware   that   we   have  ^" 
come   within   the    influence  of  the  abnor- 
mally heaped-up  tides  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 

Of  all  the  natural  marvels  that  jus.sail  the  understanding  of  an  inland-bred 
man,  this  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tides  is  perhaps  the  greatest,  the  mo.st  inexplicable. 
I  have  heard  of  people  getting  up  out  of  their  beds  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing in  order  to  go  down  to  the  shore  and  see  the  tide  come  in  for  the  first  time 
in  their  lives. 

In  this  bay  the  tides  rise  and  fall  some  twenty-five  feet.  This  overturning 
of  the  laws  of  gravity,  as  applied  to  the  visible  universe,  gives  one  who  is 
ac(piainted  only  with  the  unchanging  level  of  our  great  inland  seas  and  lakes,  a 
veritable  sensation ;  nor  is  he,  as  a  general  thing,  more  than  half  satisfied  with 
the  explanation  of  Kepler  or  Sir  Isaac  Newton  touching  this  wonder-working 


l.OW-WATKH    MAKK. 


I 


.TW. 


TUK  riNK-ruKi;  lkast. 


|»lii'iM»iiifii«»ii,  wliiih  Iiiis  only  iH-cdinc  real  to  hiin  when  it  Jias  Itccoiiu'  a  pn'sciit, 
an  active  — why  not  say  a  living' ".'  — tact.  All  tlic  marvels  nf  ciiMlioii  |ial«'  to 
that  man's  iicrccptions  hclorc  this  clock-like  luttvenient  of  the  ijieat  waters. — 
the  majesty  of  ocean  olteyini,'  the  majesty  of  (Jud. 

Apart  Irom  the  iiithicnce  ot  tidal  tlow  npon  the  weather.  —  and  iLcreat  sturms 
at  sea  invariahly  lieLjin  on  the  coast  with  the  turn  id  the  tide. —  1  know 
of  iit'ople  who  htdieve  firmly  in  some  mystcrions  ndation  of  the  tides  to  hnmau 
life,  as.  for  example,  that  a  sick  man  will  not  die  till  the  id»l»  >,'oes  ont. 

A  friend  (d'  mine  on tverheard  a  Western   man  asking'  a  ne,<,'ro  sailor  if 

the  tides  came  in  and  went  out  at  any  particnlar  times.     The  reply  was  nnicpie  : 


.MKADuw   iiltooK   (  ovi;.   <\MI'o|ii:r.l.<). 


I 

I 


fii 


"  Well,  dat'.s  mi<j:htv  onsartin'.  sail  ;  somctinu's  dey   rises   in  de  day-tinn'    and 
somi'tinn's  dey  rises  in  de  iii;j;lit-tinie." 

There  is  litth'  enou,t,di  to  detain  ns  ahont  the  Iteacdi.  Clots  of  liladder-weed 
lianij  thick  ahout  the  jj;rimy  wharves,  lik«^  raj^s  upon  the  shrnnken  shanks  of  a 
mendicant.  The  slippery  stairs  ami  ice-cold  recesses  beneath  them,  where  the 
tide  is  heard  washing'  darkly  about,  seem  tomb-like  in  comparison  with  the 
warm  air  and  i^enial  sunshine  outside.  There  is  a  deal  of  pictnrescpieness 
about  all  these  lonely  little  hamlets,  yet  tin*  look  of  stolid  indiR'erenee  one  set's 
in  the  faces  of  those  he  nieets  awakens  a  doubt  whether  even  an  eartlHpiake 
would  make  them  j^'o  a  step  faster.     Nobody  seems  in  a  liuri-y.     The  briskness 


Mild 
weed 

(if    M 

the 
th." 

IICSS 

sees 

wlU'SS 


V-'  I 


li 


><'i 


'■Ml 


'." 


I' 


.( 

ip 

i   ''' 

fi 

k 

. 

KASTI'OKT    AM)   til'OUDY    1»AV, 


.{"»•♦ 


HO  noticciiMc  ill  tlu'ir  Amcririui  ncij^'lihors  is  iiltogetlu!!-  waiitiiiK'.  And  the 
iiiu'(>rtiiinty  iitttMuliiiit  ii|)()ii  tlit>ir  out*  orcupatioii  hccius  to  Mtiiiiiiliito  no  (ifsir«> 
to  tiiid  a  In'ttcv.  "  NVf  an;  fisiicnut'ii,"'  tlii'V  say,  "  ami  oiir  fathers  wrrt'  HsIht- 
nu'ii  Ix't'oru  us,"  iiH  if  this  were  tlic  "say  all  and  the  end  all"  of  the  matter. 
And  this  is  the  type  <d"  the  provincial  tishinj,'-villagc  everywhere,  as  I  have 
seen  it. 

While  I  was  walkiii}^  in  tho  villaj^t*  street,  a  hell  l»e;;aii  tollinj;.  Tresently  I 
met  the  funeral  train  itself  eomiiij;  up  the  hill-side,  the  hearers  earryiiiL;  the 
eotHn  on  theii  '  ilders,  in  the  old,  primitive  way,  a  few  mourners  walking 
l)ehiii(l  it  with  dt  neast  looks.  A  pall  hearing  a  red  eross  was  thrown  <»ver 
the  cotlin.  The  procession  Hoon  turned  aside  into  a  thick  clump  of  trees,  from 
which  the  measured  strokes  of  the  hell  still  came,  and  I  saw  it  no  more.  ! 
afterwards  learned  that  it  wiis  the  hurial  of  an  aj;ed  person,  wlut  had  heconie  a 


AN    A  KM    OK    I'ASSAMAQUODDV    BA^. 

resident  here  through  his  having  ueeu  wrecked  on  the  '•  Wolves  "  sixty  yer.rs 
iM'fore. 

The  situation  of  the  summer  colony  here  presents  the  reverse  of  the  picture 
as  we  saw  it  from  the  heights  of  Kastport,  with  different  groupings  and  a  larger 
persi)ective,  however,  and  i)ossibly.  too,  with  a  fuller  sense  of  that  panoraiuir 
luxury  which  every  one  acknowledges  by  a  deeiM.lrawn  breath  of  delight.  Cam- 
pol)ello  is  just  about  large  enough  to  admit  of  easy  drives  or  rambh-s ;  there 
are  roads  leading  all  up,  and  down,  and  across  the  island,  and  the  visitor 
here  commands  ail  the  water  excursions  for  whi(di  EastjM)rt  is  the  proper  point 
of  departure.  At  Herring  Cov(s  on  the  eastern  sliore,  there  is  a  tine  beach. 
from  which  the  cliffs  of  Grand  Manan  loom  grandly  in  the  distance,  and  the 
Bay  of  F'undy  rolls  its  dreaded  waters  before  you.  At  the  extreme  northern 
end  again.  Head  Harbor  thrusts  a  long,  natural  breakwater  off  into  that  bay. 


:m) 


TIIK    IMNK-TUKK   COAST. 


11, Ti'  art'  certainly  as  |ticturt'.s(|ui'  siirromnliiij(s  as  ran  he  mt^t  witli  in  a  n-jiion 
nrt'i'iiiiiit'iit  t'vcrvwlifrt'  lor  its  liin-  scenery. 

W'c  liave  already  iioteil  that  the  Friar's  Head  is  a  prominent  laiidinark, 
either  when  cuniinj^  in  »»r  K'*'"n  "lit  of  this  glorious  i)ay.  This  name,  wiiich 
hdon^'s,  first  of  all,  to  the  licadJanil  .tstdt,  comes  from  an  n|)ri,L,dit  column  of 
'^riv  roi'k  stamling  a  little  out  fr(»m  the  l»ase  of  tiie  cliff,  of  which  it  on«'e 
formed  part.  IJefore  a  senseless  piece  of  vandalism  destrttyed  the  resendilance. 
the  ti^nirc  was  taller  l»y  a  iiead  than  w  now  see  it.  The  story  goes  that  during 
the  War  of  ISIL'  tlu^  hea<l  was  shot  off  l»y  a  British  man-of-war  to  show  her  skill 
in  gnnnciy. 

The  larg'.'  island  lying  oiit  Itetween  hui)ec  and  Friar's  Head  is  Treat's,  f(»r- 
merlv  .Vllan's,  Island,*     It  was  onee  the  residence  <d  that  ("olontd  John  Allan 


:i^-^^ 


>  II  \  \\i  iMiK     MMI   \  I  \  IN«. 


whom  we  have  .seen  defending  .Mi:chia>,  and  who,  hy  his  prudent    management 

in  liringi'ig  the  loca;  trilM's  over  to  the  .Xmcrican  cause,  sue, ded   in  erecting  a 

living  Itarrier  against  Hritish  aggression  from  the  side  of  Nova  Scotia  (hiring 
the  1,'cvolutionarv  contest.  It  is  vain  to  coninii*nt  upon  the  stupidity  which 
allows  ihis  oitliteratiou  of  historic  names  to  jtass  unheeded.  So  long  as  it  shall 
contiiMic.  Old  Mortality's  chisel  can  never  lie  idle  amour  us. 

Though  the  excursion  to  Calais  may  lie  made  with  a  historic  jiurpose,  or 
with  no  purpose  at  all  except  the  gratitieation  of  sight-,s»'eing,  it  should  never 
lie  omitted  from  the  tourist's  itinerary. 

The  swift  little  steamer  /^»w  Stnmlish  makes  daily  trips  lietween  Eastport 
anil  Calais.  From  first  to  last  it  is  an  excursion  full  id'  enjoyment.  First 
com  '8  the  passage  of  the  whirlpools   set  in  motion  l»y  the  crashing  together  i»f 


KASTroHT    AM)   (^roDDY    MAY 


:m 


the  opposinfj  tides,  tliiit  niiM't  and  stnij^j^lc  U>v  iiiiistiTV  in  tlic  niirmw  watri-s 
l»ft\vi'rn  Deer  Island  and  the  iuainlan<l.  It  is,  indi-cd  a  fiovt-l  si-nsation  to  s<i- 
cnnnuous  lunnid-sliaptMl  watcr-lioli's  twM'iity,  I'urty  It'ct  wide  n|M'n  suddfidy  tn 
rif;lit  and  Idt  as  if  td  swalldw  lioat  and  all.  This  never  fails  to  cause  a  rip- 
|i|e  i)t  exeitenient  on  lioard,  siniihir  to  what  is  experieueed  in  runnini^  the 
I.aehine  rapids  or  the  Xiaifara  whirlpools.  No  sooner  has  the  lioat  entered  the 
area  ol'  broken  water  than  her  headway  is  ehecked  as  suililenly  as  il'  an  invisi- 
l»le  hand  had  seized  her  |)row.  The  shores  creep  hy.  Woe  to  the  unlucky 
Itoatnian  who  should  In-  drawn  within  reach  ol  all  this  ioani  and  liiry;  tor 
stanch  as  she 
is,  even  «>ur  <,'al- 
laiit  steamer 
reels  like  a 
drunken  man  as 
she  ti^dits  her 
way  throu;^di  it 
t"( M tt  1  ly  If « it  I 

<  Jetting  clear 
<d  this  tumult, 
we  are  once 
IlKU'e  tree  to 
s«-an  the  shores 
that  Itoiuid  these 
narrow  seas 
with  walls  id' 
rut;j;«*dstrenj^th, 
fertile  slojies,  or 
mystic  head- 
lands. 

Cleavinj,'  tin- 
crystal  water, 
down  in  who.se 
depths  the  grace- 
ful me  ,sa-  Hit 
liy,  like  lilies  on 
the     Itosom    of 

Home  clear  inland  lake,  we  see,  at  our  left,  a  >,'rien  hill-side,  tliiidy  sprinkled 
with  housi's,  that  slopes  to  the  hay.  (!onspicuous  amou}.?  them  is  a  chaptd. 
'I'his  is  I'leasant  Point,  the  home  of  what  are  left  »d'  the  l'assama(punldy  trilie,'* 
impotent  remnant  of  those  valiant  anil  dreailed  warriors  who  once  lilleil  New 
Kn;;la.Ml  with  mourning.  One  solitary  ti^^ure,  erect  an<l  motionless  in  his  eano(>, 
Htands  f^a/.inj;  at  u-  with  u|ilifted  paddle  as  we  sweep  past  him.  Is  he  wonder- 
ili);  why  (tod  first  ^i.-e  his  fathers  the  land  for  a  dwelling,  and  then  took  it 
from  them  to  In'.stow  iipon  this  strange,  Inirryiui,'  nu'v'.' 


9:7^7 


vi.oM,   nil.   w  II  Ai(vi>,  sviM    x\mii;«H.   m-;w   iiiiin««i<k. 


I 


i 


362 


TIIK    I'INK-TIIKK   COAST. 


riosc  upon  our  ri^jflit  rise  up  tlic  juassos  of  j^ray  <'rag,  moss-pfrowii  and  forost- 
orowni'd,  that  luakc  the  shores  of  hcer  Island.  How  cool  and  invitinj^  they 
ItMik  !  From  top  to  liottoni  their  sides  are  cros.sed  by  deep  eraiiks  from  whieh 
stunted  tirs  lean  out  over  the  water ;  while  mosses  and  trailinj^  vines  spring,' 
from  the  seams  with  a  hij^hly  decorutivt!  elTect.  Down  at  l(»w-water  mark,  where 
tlie  (diffs  have  Immmi  (h'eply  worn  into,  the  surf  phiys  tin<dy  among  the  hidden 
nooks  and  eranines  and  ice-cold  caves.  Hut  suddenly  the  n'uht  of  this  isl.ind 
breaks  away  toward  the  east;  we  pass  out  upon  the  i)osom  of  a  noble  bay,  and 
there  ojM-ns  iMd'ore  us  a  picture  of  land  and  water,  which  for  breadth,  for  that 

harmonious  blei-idiiig  of  one 
with  the  other,  —  of  moun- 
tains tossed  u))  here,  of  low, 
woodeil  jtoints  creeping  out 
there,  of  villages  and  farms 
on  the  hill-sides  ;  or  again, 
the  long  leagues  where  you 
loi)k  in  vain  for  any  sign 
of  a  human  habitation. — 
seems  almost  perfection 
itself.  Then  it  is  so  land- 
locked on  every  side  that  we 
speed  along  over  water  as 
calm  as  a  mill-pond,  follow- 
ing with  our  eyes  the  ha/y 
outlines  (t[  the  New  liruns- 
wick  coast  in  on<^  direction, 
till  it  waxes  faint  as  the 
moon  in  th"  day-titne,  or 
coming  back  to  scan  the 
American  shore  again  in  the  other,  over  whiidi  the  Cham- 


some 


Huiue  resj 


EASTroHT  AND   QroDDY   BAY 


:u\:i 


Two  miles  and  a  half  altovc  Wf  loavc  a  littlf  wooch'd  ish't  on  our  h'ft.  hav- 
ing; before  us.  and  a  little  at  our  ri^lit,  another  and  larger  island,  showing;  a 
gravel  bluff,  as  we  aitproaeh  it,  crowned  by  a  lighthouse.     As  we  cuuie  nearer 


VK    MONTH'    ISLAM). 


now 


.'{(>t 


Tiir;  i'iNi:-Tin;K  coast, 


To  liiiiltl  tlifir  lioiiscH,  tlir  islaml  was  slri|i|(t'il  ul  its  wimd.  All  winter  tlu'V 
sulTcml  for  Wiiiil.  of  tirewood.  In  (heir  liiist.e  l,o  j^ct,  iiimIit  mvi-r  tlii-y  iii'^r|i>('ti')l 
l.o  tlij;  ii  rcll.ir.  <'vi'ii  fur  tln-ir  slorflioiisi' ;  in  t'uiisi'(|iii'ni'f  of  I  his  i-rror  :ill  tln-ir 
provisions  ami  li<|iiors  wi-rc  fro/.i-n.  'rin-y  <ln;,'  a  wi-ll,  Inil.  I  In-  wali-r  proved 
liad  and  insiitliiii-nt  for  their  wants  at  that.  Scurvy  attacked  them,  and  they 
had  neither  the  kmivvled;,{e  nor  the  means  reipiisite  to  check  its  fatal  pro<^'re.ss 
from  day  to  rhiy.  The  iee  locked  them  np  as  in  a  prison,  not  withslamlin?,'  I  hey 
were  only  a  ;^nnsln»t  away  from  the  shores,  liecaiise  the  ancliur  ice  made 
lannchin<^  a  lioat  too  dan;j:erous  a  Ihin;^'  to  attempt  even  when  they  were  so 
sortdy  pressed  for  those  two  common  m-ccssaries,  wood  ami  water.  So  they 
were  virtnally  prisoners  in  their  ishnnl.  In  short,  they  hail  set  themsidves  in 
an  inaceessiltle  position,  only  to  he  starved  out  Ity  an  enemy  that  had  lirsl  elo.sed 
every  avenue  (if  esc;ipe. 

Hut  Htninj^er  than  the  stranj,'e  story  itself,  and  harder  to  lielieve,  is  the 
Hccpiel  to  it.  Will  it  lie  (credited  I  hat.  this  episode  of  histiuy  had  so  f.ir  faded 
from  the  knowledvje  of  men,  or  that  time  hail  so  tliorou;^'hly  effaced  every  trace 
«d'  the  colony,  that  in  less  than  two  hundred  years  it  reipiired  :i  spiMUul  .search 
to  determine  its  site  '.' ' 


i 


if: 


'  West  (^iiuilily  llciiil  is  the  ixlnriit' sniilln  :tst  ciiniii' ul  MiiiiH' iuni  i>(  tin-  riiitiil  .Stales. 
'I'lie  iii^lMHt  point  is  ilrviileil  mii'  liiniilnil  iiinl  titty  tVii  iiliiivc  Hia-livil,  lliiiii;;li  tin'  ItliUT  <>u 
wliii'li  III)-  li^ltlliiiiise  Hitiiiil.H  is  lint  iiim-ly  IVit  almvi'  it.  'I'liis  li^lil  was  iiitiit  iu  IXDH,  ami  jh 
tin-  iiii|i<>rlaiil.  laiiiiiiiark  In  tlic  wisti-ra  |iassa;;i'  iiitu  (^iioijilv  Kay,  as  that  nu  Kast  (jii<h|<Iv 
Ileal  I,  at  till'  iiiii'llit'i'iiiiiosl  piiiii!  Ill'  ( 'aiii|iiilM'll<i,  is  tn  till'  ca^ti  rii  ciil  I'aiii'e.  In  clear  wiailicr 
till-  tiiwi-r,  Willi  its  alli-riiiitr  nil  and  white  .siripes,  is  a  very  riiiis|iiciiiiiis  nlijecl  ;  and  in  Ihiek 
weather  its  fn-;  Hi;;nal  cnaliles  tin-  inariiii-r  In  I'eel  his  way  .-ilnii^  tin-  sliun-,  ^niileil  li\  the 
hiiuiiil;  lull  jtisl  oil  this  \\ii\\\.  the  dan;;!  I'liiis  runieal  leilue  kiiuwii  an  Sail  Itm-k  |ii'>>tniil(-.s  it.H 
UKly  liciul  iiImivii  the  wiiVfH  willi  d<-e|i  water  all  imiiihI  it.  It  was  mi  this  nii-k  that  .Mr.  H.-ive- 
iiH-yi-r's  steam  yaehi.  HM-in-k  ilnrinv  a  fn;:,  ami  \Nliile  In  int;  ;!iit  nIT  sank  in  lilieen  fathnnisiif 
water.  A  iii-w  lii;litliiiiise  in  mi>w  (IHHM)  hein;^'  Imih  mi  tin-  site  nf  the  nlil  wimmIi-ii  lieaemi  hi 
WesI  (^iHMJily  ISay,  wliiih,  when  cmiipleteil,  will  greatly  taeilitate  the  iiavi;;atimi  nt'  this  ernnkeil 
I'liaiiiiel  friiiii  the  Ileal!  up  til  l.iiliee.  The  Hiiiitherii  eini  nf  < 'aiiipulielln  is  a  ilaiiKi-rmis  plaeo 
fur  vi-sHeIrt  iiiakin^  West  t^niiilily  May  in  a  slmni.     Two  were  wreikeil  there  in  mie  niuhl  iliir- 

Um  the  winter  iif   IMHM. 

'<*  Ka.slpiirt,  lirst,  i-aileil  Mmme  Island,  tuuk  its  naiim  at  llH  first  iniMir|Miratiiin  iu<  a  Inwn  in 
I7!IH,  ami  frmn  its  Imal  sitiiatimi.  It  then  had  alimit,  thirty  families,  ami  euniprisi-d  all  nt 
what  is  iinw  l.nliee,  with  the  islamts  lietwi-eii  Ihein  ;  liiit  that,  town  was  set.  nlT  in  IH||,  mainly 
KrnwiiiK  Up  fniiii  the  withdrawal  In  ii  nf  citi/.eiiH  iiverHc  to  \i\\\\n  umler  HrillMli  rule.  Aeeniintrt 
dilTer  alimit  llie  date  tn  wliieli  seltli-inent  hIhiiiIiI  lie  relerreil,  smne  (ixinn  it  as  early  as  IV7-'  ; 
while  WillianiHiin,  who  ia  pmliahly  nearer  liein){  i-uirect,  placi-H  it  at  almut  I7HU.  (Mu- 
aiithnrity  puis  ('nluml  .Inltii  Allan,  with  nlhers,  refu){eeH  frnni  Nnva  Sontla,  at  I.uIn-c,  im  oarly 
liM  1770;  liiit  tliis  Ih  plainly  uiiwarranteil,  inaNinueh  as  Allan  made  .Maeliias  IiIm  lieadipiarters 
tuitil  the  war  was  over.  In  a  letter  nf  Aiinust,  1777,  he  speaks  nf  Mai^hias  as  "  the  fmnlier 
of  the  state,  the  last  n*treut  .  .  .  uml  key  nf  the  easU'ru  emintry."  At  this  tinie  there  wen-, 
|M>rliapH,  a  few  Heltlem  livinK  alMiul  l'aMsamai|iiniMy  Hay,  chielly  on  Oampnlielln  and  at  .Saint 
AmlrewH.  Kiist|Hirt,  nr  Mikihd  Island,  was  ^'ranted  tn  Sir  FranciH  Mernanl,  alnii^!;  with  .Mmint 
DfHvrt  (Miu  tluit  uliaptur).      liuforii  tlu!  restoralinii  in  him  nf  Mminl  Dttsert,  hU  hoii  Jolm 


KASri'OKT    AM)    (^1  MDliV     MAY 


IUm 


Hi 


ilwfll  Hiiinc  time  HI   i'liiiMiiiit  I'oiiil,  in  INrry,  wIhtc  iIk-  l'aHHJiinii<|ii<Hiil.VH  imw  livi'.  in  ii  liiit 
linilt  liy  liiiiisi'll,  iiixl  willi  no  ullur  i-<)iii|i:iiii<iii  iIimh  ;i  i\<f^. 

'<  Till'  iiMi|iiil  III  (III'  HanliiM-  fariorits  is  alioiit  llini-  liiiiiiln-il  lliniihaiiil  cases  annually. 
'I'lif  tislii'inii  n  ;;<'!  i'i;^|ii  dnllarH  tlif  liiiusjiiail  mi  an  avfrii^tt  fur  this  tisli.  Wlim  fully 
I'Mijilipyi'il,  IJM'  fartcii'ii's  ;.'iv*-  work  to  front  ci'jlit  Inimlri'il  to  out-  lliousanil  lianils,  nun.  svimiin, 
ami  <'liil<ln  n,  vvlio  tarn,  |H'rlia|is,  i-i;;lil  Ihousaml  to  tin  thousand  dollars  |h  r  wnk.  Tin- 
Hhioki'd  liirrinK  liusim-ss  |ir<H|ii<-i-H  alMiut  two  niilliou  Imixi-h  yt-iirly.  Tlir  watt-rrt  amund  Kast- 
|i  irl.  ant  usually  very  priMhirlivf.  4'o<|,  haddork,  |iolio(k,  hake,  lialilmt,  and  loltsii-rs  an- 
laki'ii  in  tlirni.  Kailroads  arc  waiilin;;  to  ^ivc  inircascd  lacilitics  for  liusincss,  as  well  as  to 
lirint;  in  siunincr  travel. 

^'{'real's  (All.in's)  IslatDJ  contaitiH  iilMint  m-vcnty  iicrcH  >)f  ^itod  land.  I  have  liecii 
informed  that,  the  lirst  canniic  liusinesM  in  .Maine  was  he^'un  here.  The  hoiix- on  it,  '*witli 
Iwn  doors,"  used  to  lie  the  sailor's  mark,  in  runnin;^  for  l'iasl|iorl,  before  the  day  of  li;:lit- 
Imnses  or  JMacons.  'I'lic  smaller  i^>land,  lyinj;  to  lln^  Houthwest  nf  Treat's,  is  railed  Dudley'H 
on  the  rnited  Stales  eoa.si  survey  eharts  ;  and  the  little,  hiuli,  round  one,  next  the  ,'|ii|i  chan- 
nel, Tojie's  Folly.  The  Imnndary  line  runs  lhroii;;h  it,  makin;;  It,  convenient  for  sniu'.'ulini;  in 
tiincH  pasl.  This  cluster  of  Islands,  including  K. Alport  itself,  covcih  the  eniiance  into  (olise- 
conk  Hay  on  the  norllivvesi.  They  were  deiermineil  to  he  oinw  under  the  treiiiy  of  Idient,  and 
were  formally  sunendered  to  us  July,  l><l^,  when  our  tiai;  was  a^ain  lioisted  over  l'iast|iorl. 
At  this  period  there  were  earthworks  on  Treat's  Island. 

'■  l'assaniai|Uoddy  is  said  to  meiin  the  "  I'lace  of  rollocks."  or,  accoriliiiK  to  sonic  autlior- 
ilii  s.  "tircal  I'olloek  Water."  The  trihal  ii-Mrvaiion  is  in  the  town  of  rerry.  (harlevoi.v 
calls  the  Indians  of  these  parts  lltechemins,  or  .Malecites,  distiii;iui.shin>{  them  from  the 
I'eiiubsiois  on  one  side  and  .Mieniacs  on  the  other.  The  following  clipping  from  an  l-.ast 
port  new>;papi'i'  may  he  thought  somi-what  W'liiiii>ieal.  ''  With  tlic  incrciised  material  pros- 
perity enjoyeil  hv  the  I'leiiNant  I'oint  Indians  in  late  years,  lias  also  come  a  desiie  foi'  helter 
government.  .\i  plantiii)^  time  this  >ear  a  trilial  iiieetin)^  was  held  hv  aiiihoriiy  of  (ioveriior 
Lola,  and  liesides  electini;  )io|ireinen,  certain  re;^ulalions  or  liv  laws  wire  adopted,  some  of 
wliii'h  have  a  strikin;;  resi'inlilance  to  the  old-time  hliie  laws  of  our  falheis.  One  section  of 
tlie  liy-iawH  reads  as  follows:  '  Any  woman  out  walking;  'hoiit  after  dark,  policeman  he  'rest 
him,  lake  um  hack  home.'  .\nd  another,  '  .\iiy  covv  found  loose  in  villa'^e,  policeman  he 
'rest  him.'"  Thelrihe  nnmhersalMiut  six  hundred  persons,  inoslly  euL-'a^'cd  in  haskel  niakin;{ 
for  a  living'.  Some  few  tin  winter  lisliin;{.  There  are  alioiit  one  hundred  pupils  in  schools, 
lau;;ht  hy  sisters  of  charity.  The  native  lonKue  is  fast  dyin;;  out,  as  the  children  are  luouf^ht 
up  to  learn  l''.n;:lish.     These  Indians  an-  wanis  of  the  state  of  ,Maine. 

''  Saint.  .Vndrewsisadecaved  seaport  at  the  niuulli  of  the  Saint  ( 'mix,  in  a  sitiiutiun  of  <.'reat 
natural  hcaiily.     It  is  now  coming  into  prominence  im  a  Hiiminer  resort,  hut  mv  plan  and  pur 
po.se  do  not  admit  of  a  more  exleiidcil  notice  at  this  tinn-. 

'  III  IT'-Hi  conimissioiii'i's  appoint)  d  hy  the  t  >\o  ^'overnmeni  .  were  led  to  visit  Ihis  island 
with  the  view  of  di'lermiiiiii^'  which  of  the  thri-e  rivers  emptying;  into  l'a.ssamai|iioddy  Hay 
Was  till' true  Saint  Croix,  ilerelofore  this  river  had  lici'ii  called  hy  its  Indian  name,  the 
Schoodii'.  The  American  coiinni->sioners  contended  for  the  .Ma^aiinadavic,  the  eastern  river, 
.Natiinilly,  the  Holntion  of  the  dispiit*-  tiirmHl  upon  the  identiliciiti<in  of  He  Mmits'  settlement, 
since  it  was  he  who  lirNt  n  imed  the  Saint  ('mix.  Id  mains  of  an  ancient  fortiticaliou  found  on 
the  island  Hcrved  to  Hclile  the  i|ursiion,  iM-yond  ri-asomihle  ciintroversy,  in  favor  of  the 
SchoiMlic,  mid  it  wiM  HO  determined  liy  the  SH;enLH  of  the  two  nations.  Since  then  cannon- 
halls,  and  other  itvidences  of  the  Kreiicli  iNciipation,  have  In-en  dii^  up  alioiit  the  island.  See 
llol h'  "American  Annals,"  p.  Il'i,  not  en  ;       N,  K.  IJi>i,  and  tien.  Id  «r,"  XMI.,  p.  I'lo. 


;'ii 


!i 


! 


if 


i^cl^ — 

/      >  '■-7— *— 1  •-  ^~  •    "i" 


ItOAT-IMH  Hh    AMI    WIIAKK,    liKAMi    MANAN. 


|l;>i 


(MIAITKI!    XXVI. 

A     lt(    N     ArUO.SS    «i|{\M»     MANAN. 

"  I  hliall  III)  IlKil'c  t(i  .sc;i.  Ill  H«-a  i 
llfif  hIiiiII  I  ilii-  iisliuri-  "  —  Sn  »Ki>i'i.\i(K. 

BKAr'I'M'M'li  !is  it  is,  t.lic  first  lihts.somiiif,'  ol  flu-  wuysiiic  j^oldcii-iod  (Iimm 
imt  lii'iii^  (iiiiiiixtMl  .siiti.si':u;ti«in  to  IIh-  siiiuiiiit  iilli-r,  siiwH*  it  lint  toit 
siiicly  iHfli^Mircs  tlic  term  to  his  (';i|(ri('ioiis  \v;iinii"iiii}^s  iis  all  t(»<t  imkIi. 

Il.iviii^  ii:i(l  tlic  ^'Doil  roiliiiit;  to  iiifi-t  with  ;iii  olil  and  i:i'S|iiMt<-d  i-i'sid*-iit  oi 
<ii'iiiid  Maiiaii,  u\  goodly  roiiiiti-iiaiii-)-  withal,  and  a  iiili  man  ht-sidcs,  wi-  talked 
tin*  iiiatti'i-  ovt'i'  lu'lon*  a  roiisinj;  lire  om-  cvmin^,  with  tlin  result  that  when 
the  FliiHlihiij  steamed  out  of  Kastport  lli"  next  nioniinf,',  I  found  myself  on 
Ixiard  of  her.  On  some  of  thi;  lar;^e  steamers  that  ply  these  waters,  the  in«|iiir- 
in;^  travelh-r  more  often  K''*'^  ••■  •'•"■t  answer  than  a  ei\  il  one  ;  hut  on  any  of  tiie 
smaller  eoastwise  ve.ssels,  where  there  is  less  red  tape  an<l  j,'old  la<;e,  one  finds  a 
refreshiii({  wi'diti^ness  to  ^ive  information  whirh,  as  it  adds  .so  mueh  to  the 
iutere.st  of  the  voyaj^e,  while  it  eosts  the  j^ivt-r  nothiii).(  at  all,  one  will  nut  he 
slow  Ui  apprei'iate.  This  is  well.  Kveu  a  steandioat  eaptain  may  sometimes 
entertain  angels  unawares. 

I  wish  every  one  iii!;.(ht  have  as  ]terfeet  a  day  for  the  voyage  as  I  did.      The 

run  out  into  i\w  «»pe'i   sound   oeeiipied   si-aree   an    hour.     The  hoat   was  then 

heiuh'd  strai^;ht  for  the  island  in  ordi-r  t'l  take  advantage  of  the  eddy  fornuMl  hy 

tlu;  rushing  up  of  the  ehb  out  of  tlie  Hay  of  Kuiidy,  ii^'ainst  the  northern  head 

mi 


A    HUN    A<  UOSS  JiHA.NI)   MANAN. 


367 


<»f  (Jriiiid  Miiiiiiii,  by  wlii<rli  \,\ir  liiiiTyiiiK  H»m>(|  ih  (ltfH)'(!t,«'<l  off  the  shon)  of  tliu 

iHlillKl. 

\\'«-  now  held  tJif  (;o:ists  oi  (/'aiii|i()l)idlo  :iiiil  of  (iraiHl  Miitiiiii  iindci'  IIh-  cyi! 
from  Mioriiiy  riipc  t(»  frowninj^  liciiilhiiid.  Awiiy  olT  to  llii*  ciistwiinl  of  this 
))iiss:i^c,  tli(f  low-lyiii^  rluiii|)  of  rocks  (^allnl  tin;  Wolvi-s  could  Ih-  dimly  miidt; 
out.  Tlify  iirc.  aptly  luuncd,  for  ;i  mon-  limiKry-lookiii^  piirk  never  Itcsct  tim 
iM'wildcrt'd  niiirincr's  stormy  path.  Manan  was  yet  distant,  whi-n  wc  first 
made  <»nl  thnM-  or  four  wliitf  specks  (din^^'int,'  <ir  tioatiii}^,  oih-  could  scarce  tell 
whi(di,  aliout  the  wat,er's  ed^e-,  and  down  at  the  v»;ry  liottom  of  a  deej»  lissun; 
openin^r  in  the  cliffs  ahove.  This  forlorn  little  spot  is  l)ark  llarltor^  no  harltor 
at  all,  liut  a  place  where  a  few  tisherinen  havi;  their  huts  in  summer,  on  account 
of  a  natural  herrin},'-pond  formed  there  by  the  seii-wall  under  the  clitls.  The 
tish  run  into  this  pond  at  the  flood,  and  are  taken  out  in  shoals  at  the  ehh. 
( )nce  there  was  somethinj,^  of  :i  c(»ve  here,  hut.  In  some  ^^reat  ;^ale  the  sea  sealed 
it  up  to  everythinj^  larj^i'r  than  a  lishin}4-l)oat,  ami  so  it  remains. 

From  evnry  distant  point  the  resemblance  ol  (irand  Manan  to  a  lon^  and 
re>^ular  wail  of  rock  strikes  ovury  (»ne  alike.  Sometimes  it  looks  lik«f  tin-  ed^e 
(d'  a  storm  br«»odinj(  over  tln^  sea.  Hut  on  j^ettinj.;  clos<'r  to  it,  what  has  appeared 
to  us  like  a  rcf^ular  wall  now  breaks  up  into  a  series  of  monster  headlands  over 
which  the  upper  forest  rolls  cataracts  of  Kreen  half  way  down  the  (!o(d  ^or^t'S 
iM'tween.  '{'here  thi-y  meet  the  naked  rock.  Out  of  these  billowy  masses  the 
stark  and  nnitilated  (litis  force  their  way  into  tin;  sunshine,  seamed  with  a 
thousand  scars  and  {{listening  with  moisture.  Kxcept  the  handful  of  cabins 
seen  at  Dark  Harbor,  all  these  Ioiik  lea^'ues  of  shore,  all  this  immense  lift  of 
(difT  anrl  buest,  is  one  unlu'oken  s«ditude,  —  a  fact  K"'"K  '-i'"  ^'"  au^^ment  its 
terrors  with  sailors. 

On  (iosinj;  with  the  island  wt-  b)und  de(^p  water  and  bold  shores.  Soon  w« 
were  cutting  throiif^h  the  flossy  black  shadows  that  the  Northern  Head  fliuf^'s 
down,  —  a  dark-browed,  beetling,' ^^iant,  so  hewed  and  hacke(l  alx>ut  its  base,  so 
bulf,'inj^  and  impendin;^  overhead,  that  one's  thoughts  are  soon  busy  with  the 
notion  <d'  how  easily  it  could  crush  our  e^j,'-shell  <d  a  Ixjat,  That  is  one  way  of 
takin^^  ac.ciou  it  of  its  height.  Mow  slowly  we  (tn'cp  by  it!  That  helps  \is  to 
form  some  idea  of  its  mass.  And  how  di.sdainfully  it.seemH  brushing  aside  tlii; 
ten-rent  that  (!omes  pouring  out  of  the  lia.y  of  Fundy  as  if  ociean's  llood-j^ates  had 
been  suddenly  opened  t,o  its  foam  and  fury  !  Now  w(!  are  am(»n}{  the  tide-rips, 
and  it  is  now  steam  against  a  waste  of  leaping  water  int<»  whitdi  the  colossal 
In-adland  has  forced  its  iron  beak.  We  make  a  bolil  push  through  it,  how- 
t'Vi'.r,  leavinj(  two  or  three  fishing-boats  bobbinj^  helplessly  up  anti  down  in  our 
wake;  for  tim  wind  has  died  away  under  the  clitTs,  and  tuj^^in^  at  tho  oar  \h  but 
kIow  wru'k  here. 

llavin|L(  left  behind  the  isolated  rock  called  the  Mishop,  whi<di  the  frreat 
Northern  llea<l  seems  tlandliiiK  •"'  its  huj;e  (•lul)-foot,  Whale  (/'(»ve  (piictkl;.  c(»mes 
in  Hijjht.  The  side  of  the  JHland  seems  actiuilly  >,'ouj,'ed  out  to  make  niom  for  it 
Ix^tweeii  th(<  (hd'onned  cra^s  of   Fish  lleiul,  at  the  east  and  the  lujually  hideous 


im 


•nil.  i'iM;-'iiM;r,  (■<».\.sr 


Ki-I  idiMik  I'uillt  .'it.  thf  west.  A  r<i^-|ioni  is  l<ir:it.i-il  mi  I.Ih-  lii;^r|i  liliill'  Ihtc  Ik 
NViini  vf.s.sfis  ulT,  or  ^iiiilt-  t.li*tiii  hy  its  hmiihiI.  ili-if,  Imi,  wii.s  tin-  srcin-  of  ,1  ili.s- 
iii:il  wp-ck,  wliK-li  III)  iHliui<l)'r  liiis  yet,  r<>r)^'(i|,t,i-ii,  IIhmi'^'Ii  it.  Iim|i|m-iii-<I  lull  tnity 
yt-ars  or  iiidI'i*  .m*>.  W<- iUM  skmii  up  wil.li  Sw.lIIow  Tiiil  I'oiiit,  :iiiMt.liri- inurili-r- 
nils-|iM)kill^  lic:i|»  <)|  ii;ik('i|  rock,  on  wlinsr  |i|-iisl,nitc  lii-rk  tin*  li'^litlioiisc  .si>c|lis 
|ti:iiitjii^'  its  i-i)iii|iitM'iii^  t'liot,  :iiii|  liltiii;^'  ils  lluiiiiii^  .s|MMr.'  'runiiii^  Mils  I:isI 
point.,  Mh'  Fliinhinij  .slippfil  <piii'l.ly  iiiln  I'liii^'j^'s  Covr.  ami  up  to  Iht  wliail, 
wliirli  i.s  :i.sccii(|<-ii  liy  iiifans  of  an  iiirliiii'il  plain-,  t-xt  ifiiu'ly  .siij^^^i-.s!  1  vi-  ul  tin- 
rniil  ol'  a  lioii.sc  risiiitj  out,  ul'  a  siildiii'i'^M'd  villa;.^'i'. 

i'l.ivci^'s  (!ovi'  i.s  .lut,  niiuli  of  a  liarlior,  it.  is  t.rui*.  Uiil  oiif  hanlly  fxprrl.s  to 
liiiil  fitln-r  so  larj,'i'  or  so  m-at-lookiiiK  a  si'lt  It'ini-iil  in  surji  .m  out.-or-t.lic-way 
plat'c,  Uoals  (|ol  I  lie  Wilier;  tisliliousi'S  skirt,  tin-  ImmiIi  ;  a  lii-r  ol  ••ott.aKi-s 
ri.sfs  at.  I.Ik*  hack.  I  round  it.  Itiit.  I.Im*  lyp<'  ol  many  a  .sci-IihIimI  nook  ol  I.Ih*  N<-w 
l*iiit,'laml  roast,,  or  pi-iliaps  it.  may  \»'.  Iirllfr  i|cs<rilM'<|  as  an  assrmlilaj,'«'  ol  om- 
ami   t-wo  sl.oiy  lioii.iiv>,  all  cast,  in  tin*  saim-  iiioulii.      .\-.  llifii'  y  I  r.xi.sl,  no  oslcii- 


'9s?sS^«1?^^^^      -X 


:v 


Till. Ml    01      nil      III    Vl>l   \Mi«. 


(.at.ioiiH  cxliiliils  ol  \V)-allli  to  malo'  tiii-  lislii-ruiaii '^  poor  colt  a;.,|i-  seem  pnurcr,  mic 
accepts  I  III'  pi-c\  ailili'.^  stamp  ol  id  inucr.iry  as  IIm'  prmlucl  nl  ii.iliM'.  mil  ul 
IVu'ci'd    ^Moutli.      r.v  llic   same   loki  n    we   may  dismiss  il    as   re;ii|i|y  Tor  ils  wiinl 

ol    illlelcsl. 

We  have  just  seen  the  i^Mcal  weslein  coasl-svall  ol  tj.aiid  Maiiaii,  inaceessiiilc 
alike  lo  loot,  of  iii;oi  or  wralli  ol  stiuiii,  lliroii^dioiit,  ils  whole  lcn;^'t.li.  We  udw  sec 
t.liwt.  hehiml  this  wall  ihe  land  makes  a  ;^'l'adu:il  deseinl  In  I  ht-  seades  ij  a),  |  he 
Hay  of  l''undy  shore,  tliou;.,di  even  this  lowdyin;;  cuail.  is  holled  to  the  ^nsit. 
western  wall  with  rihs  of  rock  Ih.il.  at.  intervals  run  <piite  ai-ross  the  isl.ind 
into  the  sea,  I'liis  lormin^  several  harhors  lielweeii  ihem.  ||.  Inoks  lame,  huw- 
I'vcr,  in  comparison  with  tin  precipitous  side.  Tlien  a;^'aiii,  l.his  eastern  side  is 
all  crashed  away,  so  forming  islands  which  serve  In  defend  the  iiarlHirs  mid 
iireak  olT  Ihe  sea,  wliih*  the  western  admits  not  him;  and  liarliors  nothiiiK'  *  Mie 
hii|.;ht  sav  that  the  island  turned  its  hack  to  .M:iiiie.  Imt  opened  its  arms  to 
Nova  Scotia. 

(Irand  iManaii  Island  is  said  to  have  heeii  discuvered  hy  Chaiiiplain  in  the 
year  HitM.      lie  i.s  siippo.sed  lo  have  put  into  Whale  t'uve  for  a  liarlior. 


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A    Kl  N    ATKOSS   IJHAMI    MANAN. 


.•t7I 


]>'iii^  H)ftt,  (•veil  iM't'itrr  it.  w.iH  iiili;iliit«*i|  liy  wliit**  liH-ii,  uml  |MisHil)ly  iM'tnn*  it, 
WiLs  itiliiiliitcil  at  all,  siiir*-  wi*  an*  without,  any  il«-liiiitf  t'l-fnril  ul  itH  fvi-r  having 
Ih'<-ii  a  iH'i'iiiaiDMit  i-«-Mi)l)-iic«>  ol'  t,li«'  iiativi-H,  lliis  island  was  tin-  known  lamlniark 
lor  the  Saint,  tlolm  Uivt-i-,  and  is  so  set.  down  in  old  Kn-m-li  rliaii.^.  JSut,  its  tor- 
hiddin^  (toast,  its  liatllin^  i-nrrcnts,  and  outlying  siioals,  anioii)r  wliirli  it  was 
(•i|nally  dan^fttrouH  to  ^i-t  iMTalnn-d  or  In-drivi-n  l»y  stn'SH  of  w«*atlnT,  w^Tf  looked 
upon  with  <lisuiay,  rathi-r  than  didi^^ht,  so  that  it  was  Hrldoni  visiti-d  Ity  Nailors. 
On  the  othiT  hand,  its  isolation  was  a  stundtlin^-hlork  to  si-tth-nnMit.  Thus  it 
was  ji  It  to  sInnilHT  on,  in  its  ort-an  rradh',  until  sonic  cxili-d  ItoyuliHts  troni  New 
Kn^land  pilrhfd  ii|hiii  il  tor  thrir  honir.' 

'I'll)- oltstM'vin^' ('haniplain,  who  saw  al most  i'Vi*rythin^  worth  s«'fin^  on  our 
(•(UiHts,  i;allH  this  island  Matham-,  prolialtly  iM'raustt  his  nativ«*  int<  rpn-tfrs  ^avt; 
it  that  Honnd  in  naming  it  to  him,  anti  ]u>  (|uit«>  rorn'rtly  <*stlniat*-s  its  h-n^th 
ut  six  l)-a(4Ui-s ;  Imt  In-  has  litth*  ••Isc  to  say  of  it  cxct'itt  to  indiratc  its  jxisition 


und  I 


M'annns. 


Tin-  h-arni'd  rharh-voix,  who  was  cvt-r  on  tin-  ah-rt  lor  what  was 


inarvi-lloiis,  tdls  ns  that  '*  thr)M-(|uarti-rs  of  a  h-a^in*  olf  (irand  Manan  thiMi*  is 
a  riM'k,  almost  always  under  wat«-r,  whirii  is  nothing  h»t'  *'ne  ^rrcat  la|)is-la/nli. 
They  Hay,  moreoviT,"  he  etuitinnits,  "that  the  Commander  Ka/illi  hroki-  olf  a 
pieee  whirh  he  sent  into  Kranee,  and  that  the  Sieiir  f>enys,  who  saw  it,  said  it 
was  esteemi'd  worth  ten  erowns  the  ounce." 

\Vln'iher  tin-  whole  of  (his  roek  w;iM  carried  into  France,  or  sunk  in  the 
(N-ean  hy  the  ^nome  who  guarded  it,  it  is  certain  that  it  is  not  laid  down  on  any 
ehart  m-  found  in  the  caliinet  of  any  museum.  Coming  as  they  did  from  the 
pen  of  a  holy  father  (d'  the  Church,  such  tales  were  undoidttedly  Itu/./ed  aliout 
the  sca|Mirts  of  Kram-e  as  ^^ospel  truth,  so  turning;  many  eyes  toward  the  new 
KIdorado  across  the  sea. 

As  touching  the  islanders  themselves,  visitors  an?  apt  to  feel  disappointment 
iH'canse  they  do  not  show  singularities  iiH  striking,  in  their  way,  as  th«r  sc-enery 
of  their  island.  Hard  lalHtr,  simple  manners,  and  enforced  economy  make  very 
plain  folk.  Hut  there  :>re  neither  liarliarians  nor  cannilials  cui  this  island.  A 
man  is  considered  well  olf  who  owns  a  fairly  ^ood  hou.se,  a  mowing-lot,  a  few 
HJieep,  some  pi^^,  Hud  two  or  thre(f  coWS.  If  he  have  a  horse  hesides,  he  Would 
)>«•  an  ol»je<-t  of  envy  to  his  iiei^rhlHirs.  Itut  every  one  has  his  hoat,  his  nets,  and 
his  smokc-housi*.  Kach  little  settlement,  too,  hits  its  (diurtdies  and  schoolhouses ; 
und  a  common-school  education  is  all  that  these  people  can  alTord  or  even  aspire 
to.  They  maintain,  in  their  isolated  situation,  a  sort  of  sturdy  little  repulilie 
'il  which  a  man  who  should  appeal  to  tin*  law  a;.(ainst  his  nei;^lilM)r  is  coiiKideri'd 
a  hail  citi/.en.  In  cimsetpience,  I  Indieve  there  is  not  a  lawyer  on  (irand  Manan. 
So  lon({  iiH  the  tisln^ry  holds  out,  matterH  ^o  alon^  smoothly  enough;  tin*  real 
Htrain  conies  wlu-ii  there  is  a  falling  olT  in  that  one  resource.  'IMiat  means  a 
Heason  of  j^rindiii^  poverty.  The  yoiiiij^  men  ^j^row  discontented  and  leave  the 
island;  the  old  folks  j^ct  alonj^  as  hest  they  may.  Now  the  only  man  who  can 
live  exclusively  «in  tiin^  scenery  is  the  summer  visit<»r.  It  follows  that  he  is 
l(N>ked  upon  lui  tlie  a|K)stlo  of  a  new  life,  and  his  <!omin^  eagerly  waited  fur. 


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372 


THE  PINE-TREE   COAST. 


One   tliin;4   struck   me  as  worth  noting  down  here,  possibly  because  the 
demonstration  came  unawares.     The  retining  influences  of  city  life  and  city 

associiitions  are  nowhere  more  observable  than  in  the 
men  and  women  who  have  gone  out  of  the  home  village 
and  come  back  to  it  after  the  lapse  of  years  to  visit  their 


kindred.  I  have  seen  two 
)rothers  come  together  in 
this  way  who  looked,  acted, 
talked,  and  dressed  so  differ- 
ently that  no  one  would  have 
suspected  tin;  intimate  rela- 
tionship existing  between 
them.  I  had  to  look  twice 
before  it  was  possible  to 
detect  the  stamp  which 
nature  puts  on  a  man's  face 
as  a  sort  of  fanuly  trade- 
mark. 

All  the   cliffs  and   coves 

tliat  are   contiguous   to   the 

Northern    Head   are    easily 

reached  from  Flagg's  Cove ; 

but   all  are  best  seen    from 

the  water.     Loitering  about 

thesi'  headlands   is    a  favorite   occupation  with  visitors,  who  like  to   explore 

every  nook  and  corner  witliin  reach.     It  is  a  jdeasant  walk,  of  an  evening,  over 

to  Swallow-Tail  Light  and  I'oint,  a  strange,  rambling  heap  of  trap-rock,  split  off 


SWAI.I.OWT.VU.    I'OINT,    OUANl)    M.VNAN. 


A   RUN  ACROSS   GRAND   MANAN. 


373 


the  shore  by  a  deep  and  ragged  gully,  tlu-ough  whicli  the  tide  pours  with 
wicked  gurgling  noises.  A  few  sheep  were  cropping  the  grass-tufts  among  the 
ledges  on  which  the  lighthouse  stands,  from  whicli  tlic  whole  eastern  shore  of 
Manan  is  spread  out  to  view  as  on  a  chart.  As  one  looks  around  on  the  crim- 
son sea,  at  the  shadows  creeping  up  the  swart  faces  of  the  great  clift's,  into  the 
black  gorges  underneath,  or  off  upon  the  fading  shores  that  hedge  these  seas 
about,  it  is  hard  to  realize  that  the  island  is  sometimes  cut  otf  from  tlu;  main- 
land for  months  at  a  time,  or  surrounded  with  smdi  terrors  that  a  good  offing 
and  sharp  watch  constitute  the  mariner's  best  hope. 

While  the  keei)er  went  about  the  very  simple  task  of  ligliting  u]),  which  he 
did  by  taking  an  ordinary  kerosene;  hand-lamp  from  a  shelf  and  putting  it  inside 
the  magnifying  lenses,  I  remarked  to  him  that  he  was  using  the  old-fashioned 
burner  witli  one  wick.  lie  then  said,  l)y  way  of  explanation,  that  not  long 
before  he  had  heard  of  a  new  burner  which,  he  was  assured,  would  greatly 
increase  the  power  of  his  light.  A  bright  idea  strucdv  him.  He  would  buy  the 
new  burmu"  with  his  own  money,  give  it  a  trial,  and  if  it  proved  what  had  been 
claimed  for  it,  he  would  then  notify  his  insjjector,  with  the  full  assurance;  that 
his  action  would  1)e  suitably  received  and  conuueuded.  The  double  bui'uer  was 
accordingly  tried  and  found  to  work  to  a  charm,  in  great  glee,  the  keeper  posted 
a  letter  to  his  inspector,  setting  forth  his  discovery  as  modestly  as  ])ossible.  liy 
the  return  post  he  received  a  peremptory  order  to  restore  tlie  ohl  Iniruer  again, 
and  there  it  is  now. 

Xo  visitor  to  (rrand  ]\Ianan  slnmhl  miss  seeing  the  clitfs  at  the  Southern 
Head.  As  well  go  t(j  Konn*  without  seeing  Saint  Peter's,  or  to  IJutfalo  without 
seeing  Xiagara  Falls.  ]Moreover,  as  the  one  road  traversing  Grand  ]Manau 
from  end  to  end  joins  the  several  settbMuents  together,  all  being  on  this 
eastern  shore,  this  excursion  allows  one  to  see  all  the  iidiabited  ])arts  ])oth 
going  and  returning,  besides  affording  an  excellent  sui'vey  of  the  island  itself. 

For  this  excursion  my  landlord  provided  me  witli  a  liorsc;  that  could  easily 
do  four  miles  an  lumr  —  five,  perhaps,  with  urging.  There  are  sixteen  miles  of 
road.  That  would  make  four  hours  for  the  trip,  though  I  had  reckoned  on 
doing  it  in  three  at  the  outside.  Eight  miles  are  good,  two  more  indifferent, 
the  rest  positivtdy  bad.  The  road  mostly  hugs  the  shore,  often  giving 
delightful  glimpses  off  upon  the  ba}'  or  out  among  the  islands.  Tims  the 
ocean  Avas  always  close  at  hand;  though  at  low  tide  one  gets  the  impression 
that  it  has  forsaken  its  bed. 

I  passed  through  in  succession  the  villages  of  Ceutreville,  Woodward's 
Cove,  Grand  Harbor,  and  Seal  Cove,  all  of  which  lay  in  a  Sal)bath-like  stillness. 
Sometimes  the  road  would  dart  out  upon  a  strip  of  shingle,  within  reach  of  the 
bounding  waves;  sometimes  it  cut  through  a  forest  of  firs,  or  wound  itself 
round  one  of  the  long  ribs  I  have  spoken  of  as  crossing  the  island. 

The  soil  is  everywhere  thin  and  stony.  A  very  small  breadth  is  brought 
under  cultivation,  though  there  is  now  and  *;hen  a  fairly  good  farm,  (rrass 
grows  indifferently,  but  the  Grand  Manauer's  favorite  crop  is  potatoes.     IJoth 


^ 


.374 


11  IK    IMNK-i'KKK    (OAST. 


fruit  and  sliado  trees  looked  undersized  and  scrawny.  Now  and  then  I  stopped 
to  aslv  a  ([uestion  or  two.  As  everybody  seemed  to  kiuiw  tlie  lujrse  1  was  driv- 
in,t(,  \n;  served  my  turn  as  well  as  a  letter  of  introduction  could  liave  done. 

At  Seal  Cove  I  found  the  prettiest  of  all  the  island  settlements.  It  lies 
aliout  the  hollow  of  the  hills,  one  of  -winch  rises  hi<j;h  above  it,  tlirout^h  whi(di 
a  stream  runs  down  into  the  sea.  Over  this  stream  a  bri(l,i,'e  is  thrown.  You 
cross  the  bridge  and  clind)  the  long  lull-side  to  a  meeting-lumse  at  its  top,  find- 
ing it  a  guiding  landmark  in  a  double  sense.  'Phis  is  the  last  cove  btd'ore 
rea(dnng  the  land's  end. 

IJeyond  Seal  Cove  the  road  dwindleil  to  two  dt  ep  ruts,  either  nnry  or  well 
sprinkled  with  loose  stones,  over  which  1  jolted  for  another  hour.  At  the  end 
of  this  jaunt  1  ran  up  against  a  gate  (dosing  the  road  just  where  a  brook  crosses 
it.  Pidling  the  horse  through  by  the  l)it,  and  jnishing  the  gate  to  after  me,  I 
found  the  land  suddenl}^  heaved  up  in  front  of  me  in  one  great  eurving  end)ank- 
ment.  J*lainly  my  journey's  end  was  near.  This,  tt)o,  was  surmounted,  rjjou 
reaching  the  hill-top,  the  building  which  serves  as  both  dwidling  and  lightlumse 
showed  its(df  at  the  far  edge  of  a  grassy  jdateau,  the  first  hahitation  seen  for 
miles,  and  the  last  on  Grand  ^Manan. 

The  road  is  indei'd  long  and  tiresome,  but  the  arrival  ])ays  for  all. 

I'erched  like  a  sentry -l)o.\;  on  the  wall  of  some  gigantic  fortress,  tlu'  light- 
house is  the  only  object  attaching  you  to  the  world  you  st'em  to  have  left. 
( hie  cannot  choose  but  surrender  at  discretion  to  the  spell  that  surrounds  this 
charmed  shore. 

A  path  serpentines  along  the  grassy  rim  of  the  (diffs,  Avhere  harebells  noil 
as  you  ])ass.  ]iut  caution  is  necessary,  as  a  single  false  step  would  send  you 
headlong  three  hundred  feet  from  top  to  bottom.-  For  an  hour  T  walkecl  on 
without  either  knowing  or  caring  where  I  went,  sometimes  in  the  open,  some- 
times in  the  woods,  and  as  often  as  1  turned  aside  to  look  over  the  dizzy  edge 
at  my  side  the  same  startling  sigh.t  was  repeated,  the  same  enormous  sha])es 
rose  lip  dark  and  threatening  out  of  the  profound  (h'ptlis  Ixdow. 

"Can  anything  be  sweeter  than  the  certainty  of  being  alone?  In  any 
widely  known  spot  you  are  in  a  constant  dread  of  an  incursion  of  tcmrists  ; 
the  hallooing  of  guides,  the  loud-voiced  admiration,  the  bustle,  whether  of  fast- 
ening horses,  or  of  unpacking  provisions,  or  of  airing  opinions,  all  disturb 
the  budding  sensation;  civilization  recovers  its  hold  upon  you.  But  hei'c, 
what  security  and  what  silence  !  nothing  that  recalls  man;  the  landscaj)e  is  just 
what  it  has  been  these  six  thousand  years." 

The  path  zig-zags  in  and  out  in  order  to  turn  the  tremendous  breaches  nuide 
at  intervals  in  the  side  of  the  cliffs.  The  shore  is  therefore  notche<l  like  the 
teeth  of  a.  saw.  Xow  a  headland  starts  out  before  you ;  now  y(m  are  ct)asting  the 
edge  of  a  dee))  and  wild  gorge,  with  your  back  turned  to  the  ocean ;  or  if  just  a 
little  venturesome,  you  may  be  edging  your  way  cautiously  out,  in  order  to  look 
over  the  brink  into  the  pit  below,  tlumgli  not  until  after  taking  firm  grasp  of 
some  friendly  sapling.     But  one  such  look  will  usually  sutHce. 


UU(t 

you 
(1  on 
somc- 


any 
I'ists  ; 

i'iist- 
■itiirl) 
here, 

just 


? 


!i 


+--i 


A    KLN    ACROSS   CHAM)    MANAN. 


377 


Tho  ])('('iiliiir  torm  of  this  shore  is  siuth  as  to  make  the  walk  aromid  it  a 
ii(jt;il)l»!  cxpcriuiKM'.  I  have;  (ixphdiied  that  the  elil't's  (l(j  lujt  extend  in  a  rei;uhir 
line  at  all,  as  one  niij^ht  snppose,  but  at  short  intervals  the}^  bulge  out  great 
elej)haiitine  ln-ads,  ;dl  tiowini,'  down  with  savage  graec  into  ihe  I'oaining  surf 
beneath.  Some  show  a  sciirce  broken  front,  soiiii-  are  shatten^l  as  if  by  a  Cyelo- 
])ean  hiininier.  And  then;  they  stand  braced  to  meet  the  thunderous  roll  of  the 
Atlantie  ground-swell. 

'I'hes((  i)rotriiding  masses  form  again  deep  gorges.  At  the  bottom  there  may 
be  a  little  stri]»  of  beach,  but  more  often  a  hea|ied-n])  wall  iormed  of  blocks  of 
stont^  that  hav(^  come  crashing  down  fiom  above,  followed  by  an  avalanche  of 
loosened  earth.  The  ti'ces  that  (U'cep  down  into  thesis  gorges  are  stunted,  mis- 
shapen, and  interlaced,  as  if  b)r  mutual  s\i|)port.  Ibit  trees  are  dwarfed,  every- 
thing is  dwarfed,  by  comparison  with  the  cliffs,  'riieii  again,  the  pecnliar 
sti'ueture  of  the  (diffs  themsidves  is  an  interesting  study,  beca\ise  on  inspection 
the  fl(!shless  bac^kbone  and  ribs  of  natural  ii>ck  are  found  iml)eddcd  in  (dinging 
uias.ses  of  indurated  earth  or  conglonKU'att!  that  take  wondeiduUy  weird  forms, 
but  which  the  pitiless  gnawing  of  wind,  frost,  and  storm  have  stri])ped  off,  so 
exjtosing  the  gaunt  skeleton  itsidf.  with  its  monstrous  bones  protruding.  The 
prevailing  color  is  a  reddish  brown,  liki;  iron-rust,  whi(di  shines  with  a  dull 
brightness.  In  some  spots  the  crevices  were  blut;  with  liarebidls.  Never 
flowers  bloomiid  in  wilder  jjlace,  or  mort;  (piickly  turuftd  one's  thoughts  away 
fi'om  the  shuddering  hoi'ror  of  the  prt!cipice  to  whi(di  they  (dung  trenddingi 

'I'he  mutilation  everywhere  evidcMit  —  although  tlu^  waves  havt^  torn  away 
the  (ditl's  in  som(!  spots  nu)r(^  than  in  others  —  t(dls  nu)re  ehxiuently  than  words 
how  the  conflict  rages  here  when  the  storm  king  conu-s  with  his  (diariot  and 
his  hor.ses. 

"TIk'h  coiiu's,  with  an  awful  roar, 

(iatlicriiii;  ami  snimdiii^'  mi, 

'I'lic  storni-wiiiii  trniii  Lahradur, 

Tiic  wind  I'lnniclsdoii, 

'I'lic  sloriii-wiiid  ! " 


.lust  a  word  more  about  these  (difTs.  without  whiidi  out;  would  be  apt  to 
t'an(!y  it  a  sc'ene  of  magnificent  desolation. 

At  first  the  silence  was  souu'thing  not  to  be  descu-ibed.  liut  at  the  moment 
when.  1  showed  myself  at  th((  to[i  of  a  (h-ep  and  wide  gorgt;,  the  whole  dai'k 
intt;rior  gnnv  suchhuily  alive  with  white-winged  sea-gulls  that  hav(^  their  ntok- 
(•ri((s  anu)ng  the  uooks  and  cramiies  of  thest;  crags.  In  a  twinkling  tin;  wh(d(! 
colony  ros(^  screaming  in  the  air.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight,  —  a  redii'ming  sight, 
—  this  myriad  of  \vhite  wings  sailing  or  whe(ding  in  gra(;td'ul  ev(dutions  ai)out 
the  dun  walls  of  the  (diambered  crags,  or  cunding  up  around  my  head.  The  air 
was  all  alive  with  tin;  creaking  of  wings  and  (iries  of  alarm.  It  was,  in(h'e(l, 
as  if  some  enornu)US  sesi-wavt^  had  suddenly  sent  its  foam  high  up  among  tlm 
cliffs;  for,  on  liudiug  that  I  iimaut  them  no  harm,  tin;  gulls  settled  back  among 


TT 


.')7S 


TIIK    I'INK-THKK   COAST. 


h'. 


I  i 


the  rucks  again  by  twos  ami  threes,  and  hut  htr  tlii'ir  phiiiitivc  litth'  ci'ics 
all  was  as  (luict  as  heforc 

Im'oiii  these  ereatures  the  lueality  has  taken  the  iia'"!-  '•'.'  Sea-(rull  Cliffs. 

It  seems  that  these  gulls  were  in  danger  ol'  extermination  until  the  [leople 
of  the  island  awoke  to  the  necessity  of  jjreserving  tliem  as  one  of  its  attractions. 
In  the  first  place,  some  thonglitless  jierson  introduceil  foxes  to  the  ishmd. 
These  aidmals  soon  drove  the  gulls  to  retreats  inaccessihle  either  to  man  (U' 
beast.  Then  canu'  the  caprice  for  wearing  the  snow-white  lireasts  and  wings 
on  ladies'  bonnets.  This  brought  a  swarm  ol'  eagci'  hunters  down  upon  the 
gulls,  and  soon  drove  them  to  mala^  their  rookeries  still  farther  out,  so  that  few 
remained  in  their  old  haunts.  At  this  stage  the  law  was  invokeil  for  their 
protection,  much  to  the  aunisement  of  the  law-makers,  be  it  said,  who  could  not 
see  why  such  a  useless  thing  us  a  gull  should  be  made  to  occupy  their  serious 
attention. 

••J  will  tell  you  why.  gentlemen."  said  the  cliamiiiou  of  tlie  gulls  of  (ri'and 
]\lanan.  ■•  W'r  ishmders  get  our  living  by  fishing.  Now  for  one  thing,  the 
gulls  show  us  wlu're  iish  are  schooling,  for  they  fish  as  W(dl  as  we:  and  so 
"where  we  see  gulls  sailing  about  the  water  we  steer  our  boats.  \Vc  don'r  want 
them  killed  off,  because,  duml)  creatures  though  they  are.  their  instinct  ludps  us 
to  live."' 

]iy  this  time  the  provincial  legislature  had  settled  itself  to  listen. 

"For  another  thing,  gentlemen."  the  spokesman  for  the  gulls  went  on.  '-our 
men  are  often  ea\ight  out  in  the  hay  in  a  fog;  and  when  that  haj)pens,  the 
screams  the  gulls  setup  if  a  boat  (U' a  vessel  comes  near  the  cliffs  —  for  yon 
nuist  knt)W,  gentlemen,  that  a  gull  can  se(!  enough  farther  than  a  man  —  often 
does  us  a  good  turn  in  a  bad  place,  by  letting  us  know  where  we  are.  We 
don't  want  the  gulls  destroyed,  because  they  hel]i  to  keep  us  from  death  by 
shipwreck.     That's  all  I  have  to  say." 

The  bill  was  passed  without  further  s])eecli-making. 

I  have  not  yi't  said  a  word  altout  the  natural  curiosity  so  long  known  to 
sailors  as  the  Old  ]\[aid,  but  more  recently  rechristened  as  the  Southern  Cross. 

It  so  happens  that  in  V(>ry  many  places  the  cliffs  bristle  with  splinters  of 
iipright  rock,  sticking  up  out  of  the  shattered  waste,  like  monuments  to  the 
ruin  that  surrounds  them.  As  these  pointed  rocks,  or  pinnacles,  are  warm  and 
dry,  they  are  a  favorite  perch  for  the  gulls,  and  when  one  is  thus  occupied,  the 
lonely  stone  has  also  its  symbolic  dove.  It  is  one  of  these  detached  shafts  of 
stime,  standing  on  a  pedestal  of  broken,  weed-shagged  ledge  by  the  shore,  that  is 
rudely  but  strikingly  worked  out  in  the  form  of  a  cress.  Though  it  is  easily 
reached  from  below,  I  found  the  place  extremely  difftcult  of  access  from  the 
top  of  the  cliff. 

One  of  the  singularities  of  this  islaiul  is  that,  while  it  is  only  sixteen  miles 
long,  vegetation  is  more  forward  by  a  full  fortnight  at  the  northern  than  at  the 
southern  end,  thus  reversing  the  climatic  law  existing  on  the  mainland.  This 
fact  was  vouched  for  by  several  respectable  persons.     It  is  owing,  perhaps,  to 


[ 


cru'S 


>r  ydu 
—  oftfii 

th  by 


nvu  to 

ross. 
tl'l'S  ol' 
to  tlu' 
•m  ;uul 
('(1,  the 
afts  of 
that  is 
i  easily 
om  the 

II  miles 

at  the 

This 


laps, 


to 


2 


o 


I 


A    RUN    ACROSS   (iRANI)    MANAN. 


381 


tli(^  greutev  prcviilcnco  of  cold  i'ogs.  with  their  accomiiiuiyint,'  humidity,  which 
readers  u  lire  iis  indispeiisiibU!  in  sunuiier  as  in  winter  iierc. 

Upon  going  up  into  the  hanterii  of  the  liglithouse,'  I  saw  the  h)ng  blue  lino 
of  the  Is'ova  Scotia  coast,  in  one  direc^tion,  thirty  to  forty  miles  distant,  and  by 
a  slight  change  of  jxjsition,  looked  directly  into  the  moutii  of  Cutler  Harbor, 
in  Maine.  On  this  side,  the  Maehias  Seal  Koeks,  distingiiislied  by  their  twin 
towers,  stood  ui»,  sliarj)  and  clear,  from  the  low-lying  ledges,  while  on  the  other, 
the  lonely  Gannet  Rock  lifted  its  warning  shaft  far  out  to  sea. 

Uut  the  afternoon  was  wearing  away.  Aln-ady  the  ocean  was  taking  a 
deeper  tint  as  the  sun  neared  his  journey's  end,  yet  seemecl  to  linger,  that  we 
might  look  on  the  enrapturing  scene  just  a  little  longer.  Kvery  moment  the 
sunl»uriu'd  faces  of  the  aged  cliffs  grew  a  deeper  red,  so  bringing  sharply  out 
all  the  myriad  ridges,  and  leaving  in  shadow  all  the  myriad  grooves,  that  furrow 
them  fnuu  top  to  bottom.  The  red  glow  seemed  to  diffuse  itself  aliout  tiu'  aii', 
whi(^h  grew  warm  and  ruddy.  A  thin,  blue  haze  —  transparent  as  gau/.e,  (h-licato 
as  incense  —  stole  up  out  of  the  black  gorges,  curling  from  rock  to  rock,  hanging 
its  draperies  to  this  pinnacle  and  that  knob,  as  if  each  hideous  cavern  were 
being  prejtared  for  a  ./IVc  of  the  fairies.  Xo  noise  but  the  languid  wash  of 
water  in  and  out  anu)ng  tlm  rocks.  Even  the  gulls  nestled  close  in  their 
rookeries.  Tlu're  was  nothing  to  mar  the  exceeding  ]ieace  that  i'ell  on  land  and 
sea.  The  dark-browed  cliffs  seemed  bowing  their  heads  in  silent  adoration. 
The  ocean  fell  to  a  slow  and  regular  motion.  Twilight  drew  her  cool  luind  across 
the  shunberous  watei-s ;  and  as  the  light  of  day  faded  out,  a  faint  glinuuer  from 
the  lighthouse  tower  told  us  that  the  Avatidiman  was  there  at  his  jiost.  It  was 
time  to  turn  homeward.  It  would  soon  be  dark.  No;  there  glided  the  moon 
up  out  of  the  ocean  to  light  me  on  my  way. 


1  The  island  forms  the  I'arish  of  (inuul  Mauaii,  which  contains  about  twenty-eijiht 
hiindi'cd  inliabitants,  thoufili  tiic  nundicr  fluctuates  from  causes  lucutioncd  in  tlic  text.  A 
good  many  able-bodied  young  men  si  ip  on  board  American  vessels,  of  late  the  island  is 
not  holding  its  own.  Two  councillors  attend  to  local  affair.s.  Small  suits,  involving  not  monj 
than  eighty  dollars,  arc  tried  l)i'fore  a  local  niagistrati'.  Other  causes  havt;  to  go  to  Saint 
Andrews,  the  shire  town.  About  half  the  acreage  of  the  island,  including  most  of  tlie  wood- 
land, is  owned  by  a  land  company  ;  the  rest  is  in  small  holdings.  'I'hcrc  is  some  sliij)-tind)cr 
rcmaiiung,  but  it  is  only  a  few  years  since  forest  tires  destroyed  nuu'li  the  greater  ])art.  Most 
of  the  woodland  is  on  the  west  shore.     Manan  has  an  average  breadth  of  four  miles. 

2  The  height  of  the  cliffs  had  been  variously  estimated  at  from  three  hundred  and  fifty 
to  four  hundred  feet,  until  Professor  Baird  found  them  to  be  three  hundred  fei;t  by  actual 
measurement. 

8  Gull  Cliff  Light  shows  alternately  red  and  white.  It  lights  the  entrance  to  the  Bay  of 
Fundy. 


I 


•l;  • 


if 

W'^ 

mjb 

i; 

INDEX. 


Aciulia,  piveii  up  to  tlic  Froricli.  ;J;J4. 
AgamenticuH,  .Moiuit.  a  liindiiiark,  4.',  ;  tiudi- 

tioii  of,  iKite.W;  routu  to.  To;  from  Kcii- 

iiebimkport,  !>7. 
Agamenticus  (York)  River,  4'). 
Akers,  Paul,  scul])t<ir,  iiofp.  172. 
Aldcii,  Admiral  James,  liis  liiirial-plact',  l(l'). 
Aklwortli,    l{()l)ert,    buys    Mnniici,'iiii.    nntp, 

21!t ;   notp,  2:54. 
Alfonsi',  .Jean,  his  voyau'c  to  N'orumb("i;a.  2").'). 
Allan,  Colom-l  John,  di-fcuds  .Machias.  .'>;](>; 

at  Kastport,  .'500. 
Alk>n,  Klizabcth  Akers.  l.")S. 
Allen's  Island  (St.  (ieorf^f's).  noti\  2 lit. 
AUerton,  Isaac.  i)lays  tlie  l'il<,Tinis  false,  2:!7  ; 

at  Machias,  -.V.'A  ;  iiotp.  .'A'y. 
Andros,    Sir  Kdnnuid,  plunders   St.  Castin, 

■2.M). 
Appk'dore,    town.ship    formed    of     Isles    of 

Shoals,  :>5. 
Appletlore   island.   Isles  of    Shoals,   ;i;!  ;    Ijm. 

li)nj;s  to  .Maine,  :!4  ;   a  snnnvier  resort.  42 

and  iiotP. 
Argall,  Sir  Samuel,  breaks  up  Colony  at  Mount 

Desert,  2!».3. 
Ark,  the.  C.  Newagen,  20:"). 
Arrowsii-  Island,  iialt,  104. 
Arundel,  now  Kenncbunkpoit,  107. 
Ash  Island,  245. 
Ashley,  Kilward,  2:50. 
Aubry,  Nicolas,  for  whom  Frenchman's  I5ay 

is  named.  .'528. 
Augusta,  site  of  I'lymouth  Trading- post,  191. 

B. 

Badger's  Island,  ships  built  at.  18. 

Bagnall,  Walter,  at  Richmond's  Island,  1.39  ; 

killed,  140. 
Bailey's  Mistake,  ."544. 
Bake-Apple,  de.scribed,  ."540. 


Maker's  Island,  .Mount  Desert,  note,  .'502. 

Bald  Head  Cliff.  07  ;  described,  09.  70  ;  wreck 
at,  71. 

Hangor.  taken.  284. 

Bar  llarlxir.  .Moinit  Desert,  approach  to.  ."501, 
.'502  ;  bai'k-ground  of  mountains,  noti'.,  '.]{).', ; 
roadsteail  described,  ;50.') ;  clmracter  stud- 
ies, ;>or) ;  ciisniciijolitan  character,  ;50.") ;  its 
remarkable  growth,  .'50(i ;  its  rise  and  i)ro- 
gress,  ;5(Mi ;  its  lii>tels.  .'509;  routine  of  a 
day,  ;509;  its  habitu6s,  ."ilO;  shore  prome- 
nade. ;!10;  Indian  cam]).  .'51:1;  F,iii:le  Lake. 
;517  ;  the  (Irises,  .',]H  ;  in  winter,  ;i20. 

I5ar  Island.  .Mount  Desert,  ;504  ;  nnt<\  :',\H. 

Bass  Ilariior.  Mnmit  Desert,  290. 

Bass  Harbor  Head.  290. 

Batson's  River.  111. 

Baxter,  .lames  1'.,  imtp,  00;  notf,  148;  do- 
nates  library  building  to  Portland,  101  ; 
notP,  172. 

Bay  of  Fundy,  fogs  and  tides,  .'5;");'). 

Bay  I'oinl.  iVnoiwcot  Bay.  20:5. 

Beal's  Island,  notp,  '•'A'>. 

Bean,  David,  at  Sullivan,  notr,  .■528. 

Bear  Island,  Mount  Desert,  notp,  .'502. 

Bernard,  Francis,  owns  antl  settles  Mount 
Desert,  2!»4  ;  notP.  .'502  ;  notp,  :Hi4. 

Bernard,  Sir  John,  acquires  half  of  Mount 
De.sert,  29.') ;   notP,  .■!02  ;  niiti',  :JO.J. 

Berry,  Fdward,  iiotP,  ;528. 

Biard,  Fatlier  Pierre,  at  the  Kennebec,  190; 
describes  the  colony  of  St.  Sauveur,  297. 

Biddeford  Pool,  the  name,  11:5;  the  beach, 
114;  the  .settlement,  114,  Ho,  IKi;  Indian 
fort  and  village,  117  ;  changes  of  name, 
nntP,  119. 

Biencourt,  of  Port  Royal,  at  the  Kennebec, 
190. 

Bill  Tynham's  Rock,  10:5. 

Black  Point.  Spp  Scarborough,  and  note, 
148. 

Blockhouse  Point,  Castine,  284. 

:58:; 


384 


INDEX. 


Illup  Hill  Bay,  287,  and  note,  288. 
Boniiybeag,   from   Kennebunkimrt,   97,  and 

noti',  101. 
Bonython,  John,  of  Saco,  118;  note  8,  120. 
Bonython,   Biuhard,   of   Saco,  first  de  facto 

{jfovernnicnt  bej^ins  in  his  house,  note,  120. 
Boon  Island,  80,  rjT,  ui),  (iO,  and  note,  01. 
Boothbay  Harbor,  201 ;  described,  201,  202  ; 

early  history,  note,  20G. 
Boot  Head,  disaster  at,  ;]4;>. 
Bourne,  Edward  E.,  note,  84;  7iote,  110. 
Bowliear  Island,  note.  -Jlo. 
Bradford,  William,  at  Monhejian,  note,  21!) ; 

his  .account  of  early  settlements,  227. 
Brandiall's  Hill,  Portland,  l.')7  ;  note,  172. 
Brave  Boat  Harbor,  2r). 
Bray,  John,  shipwright,  2.">. 
Brooklin,  287. 
Brooksville.  280. 
Brown,  Harry,  his  studio,  1(54. 
Brown,  .lohn,  at  Vemafjuid,  note,  234. 
Brown,  John  B.,  l-">7. 
Bristol,  note,  2;!4. 

Bull,  Dixy,  plunders  Temaquid,  228. 
Bunkin    Island.       Sre   Cape    Porpoise,    lOM ; 

wreck  at.  104;  note,  110. 
Burdett,  Rev.  (leorge,  of  York,  sent  to  Eng- 
land in  disgrace,  oo. 
Burke's   Point,  Machias.  markings  at,   note. 

;54r,. 
Burnt  Coat.     See  .Swan's  Island. 
Burnt  Island,  Boothbay,  202.    . 
Burroughs,  Kev.  .John,  legend  of  his  arrest, 

82,  83. 

C. 

Calais,  excursion  to,  300,  301. 

Calf  Island,  note,  328. 

Camden,  the  harbor,  2(i4  ;  its  shii)yards,  20'); 
its  mountains,  20"),  20(t ;  its  lakes.  2(5!i; 
Sherman's  Point.  200;  its  name,  Ho/f%  270. 

CanuU-n  Hills,  tirst  sight  of,  240;  a  land- 
mark, 200 ;  Mount  Battle.  2<i4,  and  note, 
270  ;  ascent  of  Megunticook,  2()0,  and  note, 
270. 

Cammock,  Thomas,  at  Scarbon  igh,  133, 134  ; 
dies,  13(t. 

Campobello  Island,  first  view  of,  34!) ;  from 
Eastport,  3.").'> ;  should  be  made  neutral. 
35;') ;  its  fisheries,  355  ;  the  islanders,  35il ; 
lioiuts  of  interest,  35!);  note,  304. 

Cape  Arundel,  Kennebunkport,  08. 


Cape  Elizabeth,  approach  to,  138 ;  Bowery 
Beach  and  Hichmond's  Island,  138  ;  Two 
Lights,  140,  141;  Portland  Head,  143; 
islands  off,  144,  147  ;  Indian  figiit  at,  147; 
note,  148. 

Cai)e  Elizabeth  Lights,  141  ;  life-saving  ser- 
vice, 142. 

Cape  Cottage,  144. 

Cape  Neddock,  York,  (54;  described,  07,  08. 

Cape  iS'eddock  Hiver,  the  settlements  at,  08. 

Cape  Newagen,  198,  202,  204,  205. 

CaiH'  Porpoise,  the  original  settlement  of 
Kennebunkijort,  10(5;  Indian  assaults  on, 
107;  called  Arundel,  107;  odd  settlement 
of  boundary  dispute.  108 ;  gallant  defence 
of,  10!);  singular  manners,  109;  islands 
belonging  to,  note,  110;  the  name,  note  3, 
110. 

CajH'  Pen-poise  Light,  from  Cape  Arundel, 
100,  105;  note,  110. 

Cape  Hosier,  280,  287  ;  note,  288. 

Cape  Small  Point.  180. 

Cape  Split,  note,  345. 

Capitol  Island.  Southport,  202. 

Caraway,  tlic,  grows  wild.  105. 

Casco  Bay,  sinithern  entrance  to,  140  ;  islands 
next  Cape  Elizabeth,  144 ;  White  Head, 
144;  Cushing's,  Peak's,  House,  Great  and 
Little  Diamond  islands.  144, 147,  ni>,et  srij.; 
singular  geological  structure,  175;  Long, 
Great,  and  Little  Chebeague  islands,  170; 
Hope  and  Little  Bangs,  Crotch.  Jewell's, 
179;  Broad  ^vnui/.,  179;  Hari)swell  Neck, 
179;  Bailey's,  Haskell's,  Little  Mark 
islands,  180 ;  Cape  Small  Point,  180  ; 
notes,  184 ;  early  settlement  in,  1!)2. 

Castine,  given  nj).  nntc.  2;>4 ;  routes  from 
Hockland,  note,  270;  its  name,  271;  tJie 
village,  271;  as  Fort  Pentagoet,  272-279; 
customs,  279 ;  Fort  George,  280,  et  seq.  ; 
invinled,  2H2  ;  military  ojierations  at,  282. 
283;  again  becomes  a  British  post,  284; 
southern  headlands,  284 ;  later  annals  of, 
note.  287. 

Cedar  Island,  Isles  of  Shoals,  34. 

Chambly,  Captain,  taken  prisoner,  270. 

Chamcook  Mountain,  situation  of,  302. 

Cliampernowne,  Francis,  his  residence  and 
grave,  20  ;  note,  28. 

Champlain,  Sanniel,  at  Biddefcml,  117  ;  names 
Richmond's  I.sland,  139;  in  the  Kennebec, 
18(5 ;  his  winter  in  Maine,  3(53. 


INDEX. 


385 


et  spq. ; 

Long, 

s.   170; 

Jewell's, 

11  Neck, 

Mark 

180; 

's  from 
1  ;  Uie 
■■'-275) ; 

't  spij.  ; 
tit,  l>82. 
ii,  284; 
liils  of. 


Chappelle's  Chair,  Cape  Newagen,  205. 

Christinas  Cove,  2:11. 

Christmas  Trees,  rise  of  that  industry,  340. 

Chubb,  I'ascho,  surrenders  I'emacjuid,  232. 

Church,  Major  Benjamin,  147. 

Cilley,  Jonathan,  his  fatal  duel,  245. 

Clam-digging  for  profit,  132  ;  note,  148. 

Clapboard  Island,  a  colonial  boundary,  1()8. 

Clark,  Thomas,  of  Boston,  at  the  Kennebec. 
I!t4. 

Cleeves,  George,  13(5,  140 ;  note,  148 ;  his 
residence,  100. 

Cobbet,  Thomas,  captivity  of,  302. 

Cobsecook  Bay,  note,  305. 

Cole,  William,  of  AVells,  78. 

Collier,  Sir  (Jeorge,  raises  siege  of  Castine. 
283  ;  attacks  Machias,  ■'>30. 

Constitution,  Frigate,  at  Kittery,  19,  20. 

Converse,  Captain  James,  defends  AVells,  70, 
et  seq. 

Cornish,  Goody,  executed  for  murdi'r,  49. 

Cranberry  Islands,  290 ;  note,  302,  303. 

Cuckold  Rocks,  Southport,  202,  205. 

Cushing,  245 ;  7iote,  250. 

Cushing's  Island,  Casco  Bay,  144. 

Cutler,  route  f r(  )m  Machias  to,  330  ;  its  har- 
bor, .343. 

Cutt's  Island,  20. 


D. 


Damariscove  Islands,  203  ;  described  and 
named,  note,  200 ;  inchuU'd  in  the  I'ema- 
((uid  patents,  219. 

Damariscotta,  situation  of,  220;  mammoth 
shell-heaps  near,  220. 

Damariscotta  Hiver,  220,  221,  222  ;  note,  234. 

Dark  Harbor,  (irand  Manan,  3()7. 

Davis,  Captain  Sylvanus,  captured,  160. 

D'AuhKiy,  Cliarnisay,  at  Penobscot,  272; 
takes  La  Tour's  fort,  275. 

Deer  Isle,  Penob.scot  Bay,  287,  and  note,  288. 

Deer  Island,  Whirliiools  near,  .'iOl,  302. 

De  (iregoire,  'l'li6rese.  accpiires  half  of  Mount 
Desert,  205. 

De  Guercheville,  Marquise,  her  mission  in 
Acadia,  292,  293 ;  note,  302. 

De  Medicis,  Marie,  contributes  towards  a 
mission,  202. 

De  Monts,  Sienr,  at  Biddefonl,  110;  his  pa- 
tent, 202  ;  note,  302  ;  his  winter  quarters, 
303. 


De  Monts'  Island,  site  and  history  of,  303, 

304  ;  rediscovery,  tiote,  305. 
Dennis,    Laurence,    settles   i.t  Arrowsic    I., 

note,  194. 
Devil's  Armchair,  98. 
Devil's  Cartway,  98. 
Devil's  Head,  Penobscot  Bay,  287, 
Dice's  Head,  Castine,  284. 
Dix  Island,  (juarries  at,  note,  250. 
Dochet's,  or  Docie's,  Island.    See  De  Monts' 

Island,  303. 
Dogfish  Harbor,  .Southport,  201. 
Dogfish  head,  Southport,  201. 
Doughty,  Thomas,  paints  at  Mount  Desert, 

289. 
Dow,  Neal,  171. 
Dram  Island,  note,  .328. 

Druillettes,  Father  (Jabriel,  visits  the  Kenne- 
bec, 191 ;  visits  Castine,  275. 
Dunbar,    Col.    David,    rebuilds    the    fort    at 

Penuuiuid,  23;!;  tiotc,  235. 
Dunstan  (Scarborough),  130. 
Durell,  Philip,  attacked  by  Indians,  90  ;  note, 

101. 
Du  Thet,  Gilbert,  killed   at   Mount    Desert, 

293 ;  note,  302. 

E. 

Eagle  Lake,  Mount  Desert,  299,  :!17. 

Kastport.  first  glimpse  of,  349;  traces  of  the 
great  fire,  340 ;  earthworks  at,  350 ;  sar- 
dine packing,  350 ;  boundary  dispute,  351 ; 
held  by  the  British,  352 ;  as  a  centre  for 
sunnner  travel,  353  ;  its  fisheries,  354  ;  tides 
at,  355 ;  its  history,  note,  304. 

East  Quoddy  Head,  note.  304. 

Eden,  note,  318. 

Eddy,  Col.  Jonathan,  invades  Nova  Scotia, 
330 ;  sketch  of  him,  note,  345. 

Eddington,  how  named,  note.  345. 

East  B(j()thbay  (Hodgdon's  Mills),  note,  234. 

East  Machias,  situation  of,  339. 

Ebenecook  Harbor,  Southport,  201. 

Eel  Brook  Point,  (irand  Manan,  308, 

Eggemoggin  Heaeli,  described,  287. 

Elbridge,  Gyles,  buys  Monhegan,  note,  219. 

Ellsworth,  water  route  to,  note,  288. 

F. 
Falmouth  Foreside,  108. 
Fernald's  Point,  Mount  Desert,  207. 
Fessenden,  William  Pitt,  residence,  158. 


1 

f    ' 

11 


'"! 

\ 

;_, 

-■ 

1 

■    ■ 

f 


i 


I 


386 


INDKX. 


FLsh  Head,  Grand  Manan,  3(»7. 

Fisherman's  Island,  lioothbay,  20(j. 

Fishing  Rocks,  Kennebunkport,  08. 

Five  Islands,  Slieepscot  Bay,  l!t8. 

Flagg's  Cove,  Grand  Manan,  described,  368. 

Flanders'  Bay,  note,  328. 

J'ort  Charles,  I'eniacinid,  22i). 

P'ort  Cumberland,  N.  S.,  attacked,  33(i. 

Fort  Frederick  (IVnia(iuid),  233. 

Fort  George,  Castine,  view  from,  280 ;  nuis- 
ter  of  army  veterans  at,  281,  282;  \Vhen 
and  wliy  erected,  282  ;  is  attacked,  282. 

Fort  Gorges,  147. 

Fort  Loyal,  site  of,  10!) ;  sacked,  lO'.t. 

Fort  Mary,  Biddeford,  remains  of,  IKJ ;  note, 
120. 

Fort  McClary,  site  of,  21. 

Fort  Pentagoet,  Castine,  site  of,  272  ;  its  his- 
tory, 272,  et  set].;  note,  287. 

Fort  Point,  Penobscot  Bay,  270. 

Fort  Poi)liani,  location  of,  183.  18(i ;  note. 
194. 

Fort  Preble,  147  ;  note,  140. 

Fort  Scammell,  147  ;  note,  140. 

Fort  Sullivan,  Kiistport,  ooO,  351. 

Fortune's  Rocks,  loi'ation  described.  111.  112. 

Fort  William  Henry  (Pema(iuid),  231. 

Fox  Islaiul's  Thonrnghfare,  240. 

Fo.wvell's  garrison,  130. 

Friar's  Head,  340,  3.")3  ;  the  luvme,  3(iO. 

Friar's  Ray,  3")3. 

Frenchman's  Bay,  first  glimpses  of,  301  ; 
shores  of,  321,  et  seq. ;  in  winter,  32fi ;  the 
name,  note,  328. 

Frontenac,  Count  (Louis  de  Bnade),  decides 
to  destroy  Pemaquid,  232. 


Garde,  Roger,  of  York,  note,  00. 

Garrison  Houses  described,  04,  55  ;  note,  01 . 

Gentiiin,  the,  first  noticed  on  the  coast,  105. 

Georgetown,  note,  104. 

Gerrish's  Island,  points  of  interest  at,  25,  20  ; 

wreck  at,  27. 
Gibson,  Rev.  Richard,  preaching  at  Isles  of 

Shoals,  34  ;    is  banished,  35 ;   chaplain   at 

Riclimond's  Island,  140. 
Gilbert,   Hartholomew,   with  Gosnold  in  his 

voyage  to  New  England,  32. 
Gilbert.  Sir  Humphrey,  his  descendants,  note, 

104. 


(Ulbert,  Raleigh,  at  the  Kennebec,  180. 

(iilkey's  Harbor,  islands  forming  it,  note,  270. 

Gilpatric,  Isaac,  note,  328. 

Goat  Island,  Cape  Poi-poise,  100. 

Godfrey,  Kdward,  of  York,  defamed,  40; 
builds  at  York,  note,  00. 

Gooch,  John,  of  Wells,  78. 

Goose  Fare  Brook,  122. 

Goose  Rocks,  its  situation  and  name,  111; 
the  way  there,  and  summer  colony,  111. 

Gorges,  Sir  Ferdinando,  20 ;  note,  28  ;  his 
charter  of  1()22.  33;  patent  of  1031,  34; 
charter  of  1030,  34  ;  has  no  monument,  40  ; 
his  career  outlined,  4() ;  seizure  of  his 
province,  53  ;  note,  00 ;  seizes  Maine  In- 
dians, 180;  they  turn  his  mind  to  coloni- 
zation, 180. 

(iorges,  Thomas,  deputy-governor,  53;  notes, 
00  and  01. 

Gorges,  AVilliam,  nephew  of  Sir  Ferdinando, 
sets  up  a  provincial  government  at  Saco, 
note.  120. 

Gosnold.  (^aptain  Bartholomew,  runs  away 
with  Raleigh's  ship,  32,  33. 

Gosport,  ,s7'f^  Isles  of  Shoals,  36;  demolished, 
42. 

(iotfs  Ishuid.  described,  200;   note.  302. 

(iouldsborongh  Bay,  note,  344. 

Grand  Manan  Island,  approach  to,  344  ;  from 
Campobello,  ;)50  ;  tides  of,  3()7  ;  the  west 
coast,  307 ;  Flagg's  Cove,  308 ;  the  east 
coast,  3(i8  ;  its  history,  371  ;  the  people, 
371;  Swallow-Tail  Point.  372;  humors  of 
the  Lighthouse  Service,  373 ;  the  island 
thoroughfare,  37;5 ;  Seal  Cove,  374;  (iull 
Cliff  Light.  374  ;  the  ciift's.  .•574,  et  .sv«y.  ,• 
the  gulls,  .■)77,  378;  Southern  Cross,  381; 
note,  381. 

Graves,  W.  .1.,  shoots  Cilley  in  a  duel,  245. 

Great  Chebeague,  Casco  Bay,  170. 

Great  Cranberry  Island,  note,  302. 

Great  Head,  Mount  Desert,  300. 

(Jreat  Presench  Island,  note.  302. 

(Jreen's  Landing,  240. 

Green  Mountain,  the  landmark  of  Mount 
Desert,  200  ;  note.  303  ;  the  way  there,  317  ; 
the  view,  .')17,  318  ;   in  winter,  320. 

(irindstone  Rock,  the  wreck  at.  245. 

Gull  Cliff  Light,  Grand  Manan,  note,  381. 

Gyles,  Captain  John,  in  command  of  Casco, 
note,  172  ;  taken  at  Pemaquid,  231. 

Gyles,  Thomas,  killed,  231. 


INDEX. 


38< 


H. 

Haley,    Samuel,    his    improvements    at    the 

Shoals,  ;58  ;   note,  43. 
Halt- Way  Hock,  Casco  Bay,  144,  179 ;  note, 

184. 
Hammond,  Klizabtth  (Hminewoll),  nute,  148. 
Hampilen.  pillaged,  :i84. 
Hancock  Point,   situation  of,  ;}22 ;   route  to 

Bangor,  note,  ^'28. 
Harding,  Stephen,  keeps  a  ferry,  92  ;  story  of 

his  escape,  98. 
Hardy,  Sir  Thomas  M.,  at  Eastport,  :]52. 
Ihvrpswell  Neck,  179 ;  legend  of,  180. 
Hart's  Beach  located,  83. 
Hawthorne,  Nathaniel,  on  the  Isles  of  Shoals, 

29. 
Haycock's  Harbor,  343. 
Haves,  A.  A.,  note,  302. 
Head  Harbor  Island,  note,  345. 
Hendrick's  Head  (Southport),  198,  205. 
Heron  Island,  Damariscotta  River,  221 ;  note, 

234. 
Hilliard,  George  S.,  at  Machias,  345. 
Hockomock  Head,  its  legend,  197. 
Holbrook's  Island,  I'enobscot  Bay,  280. 
House  Island,  CascH)  Bay,  147. 
Hull,  Rev.  Benjamin,  preaching  at   Isles  of 

Shoals,  34  ;    Winthrop's  mention  of  him, 

note,  01. 
Hull's  Cove,  Mount  Desert,  settled,  295. 
Hunnewell,  Richard,  note,  148. 
Hunnewell's  Point  (Kennebec  River),  180. 
Hunter's  Island,  Cape  Newagen,  205. 
Hypocrites,  the,  note,  206. 

I. 

Iberville,  takes  Pemaciuid,  232. 

Ice  in  commerce,  192,  193. 

Indians,  inhabit  at  York,  45. 

Indian  agriculture,  117. 

Ironbound  Island,  note,  328. 

Isles  of  Shoals,  their  literature,  29-31 ;  his- 
tory, 32-42 ;  first  fre(iuented,  32 ;  first 
named,  32  ;  and  described,  32  ;  first  settled, 
33 ;  divided  between  Gorges  and  Mason, 
33;  set  apart  to  Maine  and  New  IIami> 
shire,  34  ;*  and  annexed  to  Kittery  and 
Newcastle,  34 ;  preaching  at,  34  ;  Massii- 
(^hu.setts  claims  jurisdiction,  34 ;  granted 
local  court,  35  ;  population,  35  ;  its  charac- 
ter, 35  ;  removal  to  Star  Island,  30  ;  Indian 


depredations,  3() ;  religious  annals,  .30,  37  ; 

improvements  at  Smutty-Nose  Island,  38  ; 

degradation  of   the  Islanders,  41  ;   church 

rebuilt,  41 ;  reported  haunted,  42,  and  note. 
Isle  au  Ilaut,  described,  note.  288. 
Islesborough,  Penobscot  Bay,  270,  and  note. 

.1. 

Jamestown  (Pemaciuid),  229. 

.feinu'us,  Abraham,  buys  Monhegan,  note, 
219. 

.Jemiess,  .lob,  starts  a  public  house,  Kenne- 
bunkport,  89. 

.Terry's  Island,  Cape  Newagen,  205. 

.lewell's  Island,  Casco  Bay,  note,  184. 

.Job's  Island,  Penobscot  Bay,  270. 

.John's  Bay,  225. 

Jonesport,  its  colony  to  Palestine,  3.30,  333. 

.Jordan  Island,  )iote,  328. 

.Jordan,  Rev.  Robert,  at  Cape  Klizabeth,  140; 
note,  148;   note,  149. 

.Jordan,  SaniiU'l,  of  Biddeford,  note,  120. 

.Jordan's  Lake,  Mount  Desert,  299. 

.Tosselyn,  Henry,  at  Scarborough,  134  ;  mar- 
ries the  widow  Canunock,  130  ;  is  taken  by 
Indians,  130,  137;  note,  148;  lays  out 
town,  Hiite,  234. 

.Josselyn,  John,  at  Scarborough,  134,  135. 

K. 

Katalidin,  Mount,  from  Mimnt  Megunticook, 
200;  from  (ireen  Mountain,  318. 

Keiniebec  River,  discovery  oi,  discussed,  185  ; 
note,  194 ;  Champlain  at,  18(> ;  settlenu-nt 
in,  188;  visited,  190;  riyiuouth  tra<ling- 
post  on,  191 ;  Saint  Lusson  visits,  192  ;  .set- 
tlements destroyed,  192;  nute,  194;  ice 
bu.siness,  192,  193 ;  ship-building,  19."!;  setr 
tlements  at  the  mouth,  l!t4. 

Kennebunk  Beach,  curiosities  of,  8.3,  84. 

Kennebunk,  lower  vilhige,  83  ;  note,  84. 

Kennebunkport,  80,  et  seq. ;  decline  of  its  shiiv 
building,  87 ;  becomes  a  watering-place, 
88  ;  the  two  villages,  89  ;  drinking  customs, 
90;  old  ferry,  91;  \Vading-i)lace,  92;  the 
piers,  93,  and  note,  101 ;  Durell's  bridge 
and  its  story,  SX5 ;  the  river,  95 ;  shore  front, 
98 ;  Sanily  Cove,  100 ;  .see  also  Cape  Por- 
poise ;  also  Arundel ;  incoi-porated,  109, 
and  note,  110. 

King  Philip's  War,  in  Maine,  118. 

Kittery,  its  situation  described,  18;  Kittery 


388 


INDKX. 


1 

'        lij 

^  -  'i    i 

Navy  Yard,  19  ;  KiUery  Point,  22-25  ;  notes, 
27,  28. 
Knox,  (ien.  Henry,  at  Thoniaston,  2:57  ;  builds 
tliere,   288 ;   becomes   bankrupt,   241 ;   Ins 
tomb,  241,  242. 

L. 

Laighton,  'I'liomas  H.,  lightkeeper  at  Isles  of 

Shoals,  31,  41,  42. 
Lake,  Captain  Thomas,  killed  at  the  Kenne- 
bec, 7i<ite,  194. 
Lamoine,  its  situation,  etc.,  822  ;  note,  328. 
La  Motte  Cadillac,  295  ;  note,  302. 
Lassoll's  Island,  Penobscot  Bay,  note,  27(t. 
La  Tour,  his  feud  with  D'Aulnay,  272,  27:! ; 

his   marriage,  275 ;   note,  288 ;   drives  the 

English  from  Machias,  ;5.'54  ;  note,  :U5. 
Leighton's  Point,  Biddeford,  110. 
Le  .leune.  Father  Paul,  his  Relation  referred 

to,  191. 
Levett,  Christopher,  at  Cape  Porpoise,   110. 

Ill  ;  at  Saco,  note,  119  ;  at  Cape  Newagen, 

206. 
Libby  Island  Light,  note,  345. 
Lime  Manufacture,  its  begir     .»g,  note,  250. 
Linekin's  Bay,  207. 
Littleticld,  Kdmund,  of  Wells,  77  ;  his  house 

deb'-ribed,  78  ;  site  of,  78 ;  note,  84. 
Little  CranbeiTy  Island,  note,  302. 
Little  Deer  Isle,  287. 

Little  Diamond  Island,  Casco  Bay,  note,  184, 
Little  Machias  Bay,  339. 
Little  Hiver,  Cutler,  339. 
Little  liiver,  Goose  Rocks  Bay,  111. 
Little  River,  Old  Orchard,  130. 
Little  Presench  Island,  note,  302. 
Londoner's  Island,  Isles  of  Shoals,  34. 
Long  Sands  Bay,  04. 
Longfellow,  H.  W,,  his  statue,  154  ;  his  early 

home,  1()1 ;  his  birthplace,  170. 
Longfellow,  Stephen,  102,  170. 
Long  Island,  Casco  Bay,  note,  184. 
Long  Island,  Penobscot  Bay.    See  Islesbor- 

ough,  270. 
Long  Ledge,  Mount  Desert,  297. 
Long  Porcupine  Island,  318. 
Lord,  George  C,  his  residence,  85. 
Lowell,  James  Russell,  on  the  Isles  of  Shoals, 

30. 
Lygonia,  or  Plough  Patent,  limits  of,  note, 

148,  149. 


Lubec,  comes  in  sight,  340,  349 ;  taken  from 
lCastp<irt.  note,  304. 

M. 

Machias,  early  annals  of,  334  ;  its  situation 
and  business,  335 ;  its  military  history, 
335,  330 ;  naval  attack  frustrated,  330 ;  is 
taken,  339  ;  early  names,  note,  345. 

Machias  Bay,  its  watershed,  329 ;  its  light, 
345 

Machiasport,  its  situation,  335. 

Mackworth,  Arthur,  nnte,  172. 

Mackworth's  Island,  Casco  Bay,  108. 

MacLean,  Col.  Francis,  defends  Castine,  282. 

Maine  Historical  Society,  home  of,  172. 

Malaga  Island.  Isles  of  Shoals,  34. 

Mansell,  Sir  Hubert,  7iote,  302. 

Mark  Island  Light.  249. 

Mark  Island,  Penobscot  Bay,  note,  270. 

Marshall's  Island,  note,  288. 

Mason,  Captain  .John,  founder  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, his  charter  of  1029,  33 ;  death,  34. 

Mason's  Bay,  note,  345. 

Massachusetts  asserts  her  claim  to  Maine,  53. 

Massacre  Pond,  Scarborough,  133. 

Mather,  Cotton,  his  account  of  Fort  William 
Hein-y,  231  ;  note,  235. 

Mathes,  Nathan,  builds  at  Isles  of  Shoals,  42. 

M.atiuicus  Island,  desci'ibed,  249. 

Matinicus  Rock,  249. 

Maverick,  Samuel,  account  of  York,  note,  60. 

McMa.ster,  John  B.,  note,  101. 

Megunticook,  INIount,  2(55 ;  the  ascent,  and 
view  from  sunnuit.  20<') ;  note,  270. 

Merchant,  Anthony,  288. 

Merchant's  Row,  Penobsot  Bay,  288. 

Metinic  Island,  245. 

Jlillbridge,  location  of,  note,  344. 

Mogg,  an  Indian  chief,  attacks  Scarborough, 
130  ;  is  killed  in  a  second  attack,  137. 

Moody,  Rev.  Joshua,  at  Isles  of  Shoals,  30. 

Monanis,  209.  et  seq. ;  see  Monhegan ;  fog- 
signal,  214  ;  the  inscription  rock,  217. 

Monhegan  Island,  207;  disaster  at,  209;  the 
harbor,  209;  the  settlement,  211;  fishing 
annals,  211;  island  manners,  212;  light- 
house, 213 ;  the  cliffs,  214 ;  character  of 
the  island,  214;  Weymouth's  visit,  218; 
see  Monanis  ;  historical  .sketch,  note,  219. 

Monroe's  Island,  240. 

Moore,  Sir  John,  fights  at  Castine,  283. 

Mooseabec  Light,  note,  345. 


INDKX. 


m\) 


jorough, 


209;  the 

fishing 

;  light- 

acter  of 

it,  218; 

e,  219. 

33. 


Mooseabec  Reach,  note,  345. 

Moose  Harbor,  343. 

Moo.se  Island  (Eastport).  3")2  ;  note,  304. 

Morse,  Uev.  Jedediah,  at  Isles  of  Shoals,  41. 

Moulton,  Jeremiah,  taken  at  sacking  of  York, 
55. 

Mountains,  of  Camden,  204 ;  of  Mount  De- 
sert, note,  303 ;  Hchoodic,  302. 

Mount  Battle,  204  ;  note,  270. 

Mount  Desert,  route  from  Rockland,  24!> ; 
from  Castine,  284,  285 ;  note,  288 ;  its  rise 
as  a  summer  resort,  280 ;  artists  who  have 
made  it  famous,  280 ;  in  Acadia,  202 ; 
French  settlement  at,  203 ;  is  broken  up, 
203 :  is  called  Mount  Mansell,  204 ;  a  ren- 
dezvous for  savages,  204  ;  shipwreck  at,  204 ; 
English  settlement  begins  at,  204,  205 ;  ap- 
proach from  sea,  205  ;  its  mountains,  200  ; 
Bass  Harbor  and  I'lacentia  Islands,  20(i ; 
Cranberry  Islands,  200 ;  Somes'  Sound, 
297 ;  Northeast  and  Southwest  harbors,  207  ; 
the  sea-front,  208  ;  Seal  Harbor,  200 ;  Otter 
Cove  and  Cliff,  300;  (ireat  Head,  300; 
Schooner  Head,  300,  301 ;  Spouting  Horn, 
301 ;  Anemone  Cave,  301 ;  Newport  Moun- 
tain, 301  ;  approach  to  Bar  Harbor,  302 ; 
notes,  302 ;  names  and  heights  of  its  moun- 
tains, note,  303  ;  Bar  Harbor  and  environs. 
304,  et  seq. ;  the  Ovens,  Cathedral,  and  Via 
Mala,  note,  318 ;  approach  from  French- 
man's Bay,  323 ;  from  Sullivan,  324,  325. 

Mount  Desert  Rock,  what  the  sea  has  done 
there,  325. 

Mount  Mansell.  See  Mount  Desert ;  note,  302. 

Mousam  River,  83  ;  note,  84. 

Mouse  Island,  Southport,  201. 

Mowatt,  Captain  Henry,  seized  at  Portland, 
166 ;  bombards  the  town,  107. 

Moxus,  the  chief,  at  sacking  of  Pemaquid, 
231. 

MulhoUand's  Point,  349. 

Munjoy  Hill,  annals  of,  165,  et  seq. 

Muscongus  Bay,  225. 

Muscongus  Patent,  history  of,  236,  237. 

Mussel- Ridges,  position  of,  245. 

N. 

Nahanada,  the  chief,  enters  into  alliance  with 

Captain  Smith,  226 ;  note,  234. 
Narraguagas  Bay,  note,  344. 
Narraguagas  River,  note,  344. 
Nash  Island  Light,  note,  344. 


Naskeag.     See  Eggemoggin,  287. 

Naskeag  Point,  287  ;  note,  288. 

Nautilus  Island,  Penobscot  Bay,  280. 

Neal,  John,  144  ;  residence,  158. 

Negro  Island,  Camden,  2(54. 

Nelson,  John,  romantic  episode  of  his  life, 
232 ;  note,  235. 

Neptune,  the  Quoddy  Chief,  at  Machias,  33(J. 

New  Casco  Fort,  site  of,  108  ;  note,  172. 

Newcastle,  situation  of,  220 ;  note,  2.34. 

Newcastle,  Duke  of,  anecdote  of,  2;'. 

New  England,  causes  moving  to  its  settle- 
ment, 40. 

New  England,  the  name,  257. 

Newport  Mountain,  Mount  Desert,  301 ;  out- 
works of,  note,  303. 

Newtown,  note,  194. 

Northeast  Harbor,  207,  208  ;  mark  for,  note, 
302. 

Northern  Head,  Grand  Mauan,  307. 

North  Haven,  240. 

Norumbega,  Champlaiu  lo(;ates  it,  253  ;  first 
accounts  of,  254-250;  note,  257,  258. 

Nottingham  Galley,  wreck  of,  50. 

O. 

O'Brien,  Jerenuah,  at  Machias,  .335. 

Ocean  Point,  Boothbay,  220. 

Ogun<iuit,  approach  to,  72  ;  I'erkins'  Cove, 
73  ;  land  .speculation,  74. 

Ogunquit  River  and  beach,  75, 

Old  Orchard  Beach,  from  ISiddeford  Pool, 
114;  how  named,  122;  Bay  View,  124;  the 
summer  city,  12(i ;  its  diversions,  127  ;  sin- 
gular bathing  custom,  127  ;  great  gale  at, 
128;  fight  at,  130;  annals  of,  note,  131, 

Orr's  Island,  Casco  Bay,  170. 

(Jtter  Cliff,  Mount  Desert,  .300 ;  note,  303. 

Outer  Heron  Lslaiul,  note,  200. 

Outer  Long  Island,  Penobscot  Bay,  note,  288. 

Owl's  Head,  situation  and  names,  240. 

Owl's  Head  Bay,  246. 

P. 

Parkman,  Francis,  quoted,  292. 

Parmentier,  Jean,  his  account  of  Norumbega, 

254. 
Parsons,  Charles,  his  improvements,  85. 
Passamaquoddy,  the  name,  354 ;  note,  305. 
Passamaquoddy  Indians,  residence  of,  361 ; 

note,  3((.''- 
Peak's  Island,  Casco  Bay,  147. 


n^ 


ii 


.n  ! 


:a  ■ 


.390 


INDEX. 


Pemaquid  Harbor,  225,  220 ;  popular  errors 
concerning  settlement  at,  22(),  227  ;  tour  of 
the  fortifications,  227,  22H ;  their  history, 
228-231 ;  called  Jamestown,  220 ;  under 
New  York,  228,  229 ;  New  Harbor,  2;U  ;  fort 
captured  and  destroyed,  2.31 ;  rebuilt  and 
called  William  Henry,  231  ;  again  taken, 
232  ;  again  rebuilt  as  Fort  Frederick,  233 ; 
.street  pavements,  233 ;  notes,  234. 

Pemaciuid  Patent,  note,  211);  note,  234. 

]'ema(iuid  Point,  described,  225. 

Pemetiij  (Mount  Desert),  note,  302. 

Penhallow,  Samuel,  note,  84. 

Penobscot  Bay,  west  entrance  to,  245 ;  its 
landmarks,  24(),  24!t ;  Fox  Islands  Thor- 
oughfare, 240;  earliest  accounts  of,  253, 
et  seq.,  250 ;  is  read  out  of  the  category  of 
summer  resorts,  2(50 ;  Camden  Mountains, 
2(50;  Rockland,  llockport,  and  Camden 
Shores,  263 ;  Fort  Point,  270 ;  its  two  chan- 
nels, note,  270. 

Pentagoet.     See  Castine,  272. 

Pentecost  Harbor  (St.  (Jeorge's),  218,  note, 
210. 

Pepperell,  Andrew,  son  of  Sir  William,  20 ; 
note,  28. 

Pepperellborough.     See  Saco. 

Pepperell,  Lady  (Mary  Hirst),  residence  of, 
and  death,  21. 

Pepperell,  Madam  (Margery  Uray),  23. 

Pepi>erell,  Sir  William  (First  Baronet),  makes 
his  grandson  his  heir,  20 ;  his  residence, 
2:! ;  his  influence,  24  ;  made  comma  ler  at 
Lduisburg,  24;  Saco  named  Pepperellbor- 
ough for  him,  110. 

Pepperell,  William,  Senior,  23. 

Perry,  residence  of  the  Passanuujuoddys, 
note,  3(55. 

Petit  Manan  Island,  320. 

Petit  Manan  Light,  325. 

Petit  Manan  Point,  its  situation,  .320 ;  east- 
ern shore,  330. 

Phillips,  William,  settles  at  falls  of  Saco,  118  ; 
is  attacked  by  Indians,  118  ;  note,  120 ;  site 
of  his  fort,  note,  120. 

Phips,  Sir  William,  rebuilds  Pemaquid,  231. 

Phips,  Sir  William,  25. 

Pigeon  Hill,  located,  329. 

Pine  Point,  Scarborough,  131 ;  note,  148. 

Pine,  Charles,  residence  of,  131. 

Placentia  Islands,  296 ;  named,  note,  302. 

Pleasant  Bay,  location  of,  note,  344,  345. 


Pleasant  Point  (Perry),  .301  ;  note,  .365. 

Plough  Company,  tlieir  settlement,  101. 

Plymouth  Trading- Post  (Kennebec),  note,  104. 

Poison  Ivy  (.Mercury),  how  detected,  103,  and 
note,  110. 

Pollock  Fishery,  354. 

Pond  Island  Light  (Kennebec),  183. 

Pond  Island  Light,  note,  344. 

Poor,  John  K.,  Imilds  at  Isles  of  Shoals,  42. 

Popham  Beach,  note,  184. 

Popham  Colony,  188,  180;  relics  of  it,  100. 

Popham,  (leorge,  at  the  Ken'  ebec,  180 ;  his 
death,  180. 

I'opham,  Sir  Francis,  no'.e,  21.^. 

Popham,  Sir  John,  heads  New  England  colo- 
nizatiiin,  180. 

Porcupine  Islands,  Mount  Desert,  304,  and 
note,  318. 

Porgy  oil  manufacture,  202. 

Port  Clyde,  245. 

Portland,  the  harbor,  islands,  and  forts,  144, 
147;  its  topi>grai)liy,  15.3;  the  great  fire, 
167 ;  State  Street,  158 ;  Congress  Street, 
158,  150;  Public  Library,  101;  old  ways 
of  travel,  l(i2  ;  Eastern  Cemetery,  104  ;  old 
City  Hall,  105  ;  bombarded,  105 ;  the  Ob- 
servatory, KiH  ;  Cleeves'  moimment,  108  ; 
the  bay  from  Munjoy  Hill,  108,  100;  de- 
stroyed by  French  and  Indians,  ItiO  ;  Con- 
federate dein-edations,  171;  Mo<e,  171. 

Portland  Head  and  Light,  143. 

Post-routes  established,  81. 

Potts'  Harbor,  Harpswell,  170. 

Preble,  Conuuodore  Edward,  his  residence, 
Kil  ;  burial-place,  l(i4  ;  saved  from  the 
prison-.ship,  108;  note,  172. 

Preble,  Ceneral  .lededlah,  anecdote  of,  108. 

Preble's  Island,  note,  328. 

Preble,  Nathaniel,  at  Sullivan,  note,  328. 

Prout's  Neck,  132.  et  seq.  ;  Indian  atrocities 
at,  133,  13(5,  137  ;  surroundings  of,  137. 

Pumpkin  Island,  Boothbay,  note,  206. 

Pumpkin  Island  (Penobscot  Bay),  287. 

R. 

Ragged  Island,  249. 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  furnishes  a  ship  for  New 

England,  32. 
Ram  Lsland,  note,  206,  208. 
Rice,  Arabella,  a  benefactor  of  Kittery,  18. 
Richmond's  Island,  annals  of,  1.38,  139,  140 ; 

note,  148. 


INDKX. 


391 


de- 
C'on- 


\m. 


ir  New 


18. 


140; 


Rigby,    Sir    Alexander,    buys    Lyf,'()iiia,    or 

l'l()u,!,'h  patent,  noti',  148. 
Robbinston,  ."$02. 

Roberts,  Tobias,  of  Bar  Harbor,  SOd. 
Robin.son's     Island,    I'enobseot    Bay,    ho/c, 

270. 
Robins: )n's  Itock,  Tenokscot  Bay,  not'',  270. 
Rockland,  2;J(i ;  its  harbor,  24(). 
Rockp  irt,  situation  of,  2();5 ;  output  of  lime, 

note,  2T(). 
Rodiok,  Daniel,  of  Bar  Harbor,  30(1. 
Rogers,  Thomas,  of  Saeo,  122. 
Round  roreujiine  Island,  .'J18. 
Rutherford's  Island,  220,  221. 


Sabino,  peninsula,  18(5. 

Saco,  faee  of,  and  note.  119  ;  called  Pepperell- 

borough,  note,  110. 
Saddle  Island,  Peuob.scot  Bay,  nolr,  270. 
Sagadahoc  (Kennebec).  101);  notf,  104. 
Sagadahoc  Province,  note,  2'-'A. 
Sail  Rock,  wreck  at.  .'544  ;  notr,  -Wi. 
Sahit    Andrews',    X.  B.,    site    of.    .■i(')2  ;    notr, 

Saint-Castin,  in  the  attack  on  Wells,  80  ;  at- 
tacks PenKupiid.  2.")0  ;  at  Castine,  272,  27(1 ; 
his  character,  27(!,  270  ;  his  son,  270. 

Saint  Croix  Hiver,  Kngland  claims  to,  220  ; 
sail  to  Calais,  ;50;J ;  is  declared  the  boun- 
dary, note,  ;]()('). 

Saint  (ieorge,  245  ;  note,  250. 

Saint  George's  Islands,  situation  and  names, 
note,  210. 

Saint  George's  River,  244,  245. 

Saint  Sauveur,  Mount  Desert,  293. 

Salisbury's  Cove,  Mount  Desert,  318. 

Saltonstall,  Captain,  is  defeated  at  Castine, 
282. 

Sainoset,  the  chief,  note,  20() ;  note,  210. 

Sardine  packing,  processes  of,  350 ;  annual 
product  of,  note,  3()5. 

Sasanoa,  The,  voyage  in,  described,  195-107. 

Sayward,  Jonathan,  of  York,  50. 

Scarborough,  from  <1ld  ( )rchard,  123  ;  islands 
of,  note,  131  ;  Prout's  Neck,  132,  et  seq. ; 
Josselyn's  account  of,  135,  13(5 ;  depopu- 
lated, 137  ;  summer  colonies  at,  137. 

Schoodic  Hills,  302. 

Schoodic  Point,  325  ;  whistling-buoy  at,  note, 
328. 


Schooner  Head,  Mount  Desert,  300  ;  its  name, 

301. 
Scottow,  Joshua,  at  Scarborough,    131,  and 

noli'. 
Scottow's  Hill,  Scarborough,  note,   131  ;   his 

fort,  133  ;   note,  148. 
Sea-(iull  Cliff,  Grand  Manan,  ;)74,  et  seq.; 

note,  381. 
Seal  Harbor,  M(mnt  Desert,  200. 
Seal  Islands,  situation  of,  344  ;   early  name 

of,  note,  345. 
Seal  Kock,  wrec'.c  at,  249. 
Sea-Urchin,  its  names  and  uses,  note,  \'-\\. 
Sedgwick,  287. 

Sedgwick,  Robert,  takes  Castine,  275. 
Seguin  Island,  140;   Light,  IS.".;  note,  181. 
Sevi'U-Hundri'd-Acre  Island,  Penobscot  Bay, 

270. 
.-reward's  Island,  note,  328. 
Sheep  Island,  240. 
Sheepscot  Bay,  198  ;  note,  200. 
Sheei)scot  Farms,  depopulate(l,  note,  200. 
Sheepscot  Hiver,  town  laid  out  on,  note,  234. 
Sherman's  Point,  Camden,  200. 
Shillaber.   B.   P.    (Mrs.   Partington),   on  the 

l.sles  of  Shoals,  31),  31  ;  on  chowders,  103. 
Shii)  ami  Barge,  note  7,  288. 
Ship-building,    its    decay,    87 :    and    annals, 

note,  101. 
Ship  Harbor  Lsland,  note,  ;)45. 
Short  Sands,  York,  the  neighborhood,  07,  08. 
Simrte,   .Vbraham,  at   Pemacjuid,  note,  210 ; 

note,  2:!4. 
Sinnntuis,  Franklin,  sculptor,  154. 
Simonton's  Cove,  light  at,  147. 
Simpson,  .losiah,  at  Sullivan,  note,  328. 
Skilling's  Bay,  322. 
Smith,  Captain  John,  names  Isles  of  Shoals, 

and  describes  them,  32  ;  at  M(jnliegan,  note, 

210  ;  and  Pemaquid,  22(1. 
.Smith,   Rev.  Thomas,  his  burial-place,  104 ; 

note,  172. 
Smutty  Nose,  or  Haley's  Island,  one  of  the 

Isles  of  Shoals,  34. 
Somes,  Abraham,  at  Mount  Desert,  .■H>2. 
Somes'  Sound,  200,  207  ;  site  of  French  col- 
ony, 207  ;  entrance  to,  note,  302. 
Sinnesville,  situiition  of,  297. 
Sorel,  the  name,  270. 

Sorrento,  its  situation,  324  ;  its  harbor,  328. 
Southack,  Cyprian,  note,  219. 
South  Bristol,  note,  234. 


392 


INDEX. 


i 


III 


!  i 


Southern  Cross,  Grand  Manan,  JHS. 

Sdutli  Tlioniaston,  2'M. 

Soutliwi'.st    llarl)()r,    Mount   Desert,    settled, 

2)t4  ;  the  viUage,  207,  2!>«. 
Spaihawk,  Xathaniel,  20. 
Spaihawk,    WilUain,    son    of   Nathaniel,    be- 
comes second  Sir  William  Pepperell,  20. 
Spnu'c  I'oint,  lioothbay,  202. 
Spurwink  lliver,  IDS. 
S(iuirrel  Island,  described,  20;},  204. 
Stajie  Island,  Middet'ord,  114;  note,  120. 
Sta^i'  Island,  Cape  I'orpoise,  10"),  lOti. 
Staples,     E.    C,    pioneer    landlord    at  Old 

Orchard,  note,  UJl. 
Stiir  Island,  becomes  seat  of  government  for 

the  Isles  of  Shoals,  3(i. 
Stave  Island,  note,  328. 
Steuben,  toi)o.irraphy  of,  note,  344. 
Storcr  (iarrison,  Wells,  site  of,  70  ;  attacked, 

70-81. 
Stowe,  Mrs.  II.  B.,  at  Orr's  Island,  170. 
Stratton's  Island,  Saco  Hay,  131. 
Sullivan,  Daniel,  at  Sullivan,  note,  328. 
Sullivan  Harbor,  its  aspect,  323  ;  its  environs, 

324  ;  its  annals,  328. 
Sullivan,  James,  (pioted,  note,  121. 
Sutton's  Island,  Mount  Desert,  note,  302. 
Swallow-Tail  Lii^ht,  Grand  Manan,  372. 
Swallow-Tail  I'oint,  (irand  Manan,  308. 
Swan's    Island   (Burnt  Coat),  situation   of, 

note,  288. 


Taunton  Bay,  located,  324. 

Temple,  Sir  Tht)mas,  his  witticism,  27(5. 

Tennant's  Harbor,  245. 

Thaxter,  Celia,  at  the  Isles  of  Shoals,  31. 

Thev6t,   Andre,   his  voyage   to   Norumbega, 

250. 
Thomaston,  situation  of,  230  ;  early  history, 

2-")7  ;   early  fort,   241 ;   burial-ground,  242, 

243 ;    its   name,    note,   240 ;    defences  de- 

sti'oyed,  200. 
Thompson,  Captain  Samuel,  seizes  Mowatt, 

at  Portland,  l(i(i. 
Thompson,  David,  settles  at  the  Piscataqua, 

227. 
Thread  of  Life  Ledges,  disaster  at,  221. 
Thrumcap,  Damariscotta  Kiver,  221. 
Thrumcap,  Mount  Desert,  301. 
Thury,  Father,  incites  the  Penobscots  to  war, 

230. 


Tides,  Bay  of  Fundy,  etc.,  355. 

Timber  Island,  location.  111  ;  wreck  at,  112. 

Townsend  (jut,  201. 

Treat's  (Allan's)  Island,  300 ;  note,  305. 

Trelawny,   H(il)ert,  takes  a  patent  for  Rich- 
mond's Island,  etc.,  140;  note,  148. 

Trott's  Island,  C;,pe  Porpoise,  109. 

Trowbridge,  John  T. ,  101. 

Tucke,  Rev.  John,  at  Isles  of  Shoals,  30,  37, 
38. 

Tucker,  Richard,  at  Cape  Elizabeth,  140. 

Turtle- 1 leail,  Penobscot  Bay,  2iO. 

Trundy's  Reef,  wreck  at,  142. 

Twt)  Brothers,  Casco  Bay,  note,  172. 
'Tyng,  William,  his  burial-place,  104  ;  anec- 
dote of,  l(i8  ;  noti-,  172. 


U. 

I'nion  River,  why  so  named,  328. 
Upper  Hell  Gate  (Sasauoa  River),  106. 


Vinal  Haven,  240. 

Vines,  Richard,  at  Biddeford,  117,  and  notes, 
110,  120;  atMachias,  334. 

W. 

Wadsworth,  Henry,  burial-place,  104. 
Watlsworth,   (Jeneral  Peleg,   l(i2  ;  note,  172  ; 

taken  prisoner,  24"). 
Waldo,  Hannah,  refuses  Andrew  Pepperell, 

20  ;  i\:A  marries  Thomas  Flucker,  note,  28. 
Waldo,  Sanuiel,  his  patent,  237  ;   notice  of, 

note,  2')0. 
Warren's  Island,  Penobscot  Bay,  note,  270. 
Webb,  James  Watson,  24o. 
W.'bhannet  River,  Wells,  78. 
Weems,  James,  surrenders  Pemaiiuid,  231. 
Welclipool,  approach  to,  340,  353 ;  glimpses 

of  life  there,  355,  350. 
Wells,  its  rise  predicted,  70  ;  its  villages  and 

situation,  7(5,  77  ;  lirst  settlers  in,  77,  78  ; 

Indian  attacks  on,  70,  et  seq.;  First  Parish 

of,  82  ;   east  boundary   of,  83  ;    note,  84  ; 

also,  108. 
Wells  Bay  at  Ogunquit,  74,  70-85. 
Wells  Beach,  75  ;  way  to,  70. 
West  Quoddy   Head,  and  Light,  344,  34(5; 

note,  3()4. 


INDKX. 


•A\rd 


ii 


Weymouth,  Captain  Oeor^^e,  dmeoverH  the 
Kennebec,  \X'>;  at  Monhej^an,  218. 

Whale  Cove,  (irand  Manan,  ;5(>7. 

Wheeler,  (J.  A.,  note,  287. 

Wheelwrljiht,  Kev.  John,  at  Wells,  77  ;  note, 
84. 

Wheelwright,  Captain  John,  of  Welln,  bloody 
endint;  of  a  weddinj;  at  his  honse,  S2. 

Whitetield,  (Jeorjie,  his  oonneetion  .vitli 
Lonisbnrg  exi)e(lition,  24. 

White  Head,  Casco  Bay,  deseribed,  144,  147. 

Whitehead  Island  and  Li^'ht,  24"). 

White  Islan«l  Lijj;ht,  22,  ;i(t. 

White  Islands,  Hoithbay,  7iote,  200. 

White  Mountains,  finn  Kennebnnkport.  U7  ; 
Josselyn's  aceount,  ].'54;  from  Searborough, 
138;  from  Portland,  ir)7,  1(5(»;  from  Mount 
Megunticook,  2()(). 

Whittier,  John  G.,  Legend  t)f  Ilarpswell,  180. 

Willis,  N.  P.,  on  the  Penobscot  region,  2(iO. 

Wincall,  Captain,  his  fight  with  Indians,  l.'](). 

Winslow,  Kdward,  of  I'lynioulh,  at  the  Ken- 
nebec, 11)0  ;  at  Monhegan,  note,  210. 

Winslow,  John,  at  the  Keiniebec,  101. 

Winter  Harbor,  Hiddeford,  114;  notes  I  and 
2,  119. 


Winter  llarbo'*,  Gouldsborough,  .">2ri. 
Winter,  John,  at  Kichniond's  Island,  140. 
Witherle,  (ieorge,  2H1. 
Wolves,  the,  :>ti7. 

Wood    Island,   location  of,    114;    note,   120; 
from  old  Orchard  Ueach,  122. 


York,  depopulated  by  jjlague,  15 ;  how  to 
get  there,  47  ;  meeting  of  the  old  and  new, 
47 ;  meetin^'-hou.se,  47,  48 ;  first  called 
Bristol,  48  ;  called  Agamenticus  and  (iorge- 
ana,  40 ;  annals  of  crime  in,  40 ;  sacked, 
h'-i,  i')4  ;  the  harbor,  ")•")  ;  pictnres(iue  neigh- 
borhood, ')(i  ;  .Stage  Neck.  ')0  ;  authorities 
on  the  settlement,  tiotf,  00  ;  and  limits  and 
government,  nofrx,  00,  (11  ;  shore  front, 
(>•] ;  Long  Sands,  O;],  04;  Cajie  N'eddock, 
the  Nubble,  04,  ()7  ;  Short  Sands,  (>7,  08  ; 
Bald  Head  Cliff.  (iO  ;  Ogiuuiuit   Village.  72. 

York  Nubble,  0.') ;  how  reached,  (54  ;  sea  view 
at,  07. 

Yorkshire  County,  Maine  settlements  erected 
into,  ;>"). 

Young,  Captain,  ascends  the  Kennebec,  101. 


ipcrell, 

.^',  28. 

tice   of, 

270. 


.  2:il. 
:limpses 

lies  and 
I  i,  78  ; 
Pari.sh 

ote,  84; 


